Adam and Eve
by LoveyHowl
Summary: Adam Hassler is 19 and Sean Archer has just passed away suddenly. Will Adam be able to accept the truth about his real family? About Sean? Will Eve Archer's worst fears be realized if he doesn't?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Face/Off is a fantastic movie written by Mike Werb and Michael Colleary and directed by John Woo.**

**This story takes place when Adam is 19 years old and immediately after Sean Archer's death.**

I own absolutely nothing.

Adam and Eve

Another funeral.

Eve Archer stared at the casket by the graveside and felt curiously detached from everything and everybody. He certainly deserved his due but it had been a long day and quite draining what with all the pomp and circumstance afforded a man of his accomplishments. All of the FBI brass was there, as well as the LAPD and the city Mayor. Eve felt like she was having an out-of-body experience but was almost thankful for it; she felt as if her other self was watching over her and directing her: _yes, shake hands graciously; yes, say thank you and remain stately; no, you will not fall out in a heap, now; soon it will all be over._

The last words had finally been spoken. All of the attendees were beginning to disperse, some of them headed to her very house. Her other self told her to walk away and head to the limo; _yes, link arms with Jamie and Adam and go home now; that's it, one foot before the other—you can do it._ But Eve found herself unable to obey as she went to a chair under the tent instead and took a seat. She wanted to see the casket be lowered and had requested it earlier, unbeknownst to the children.

Jamie and Adam looked at each other but understood completely and said nothing as they each took a seat beside her; they all watched silently as the caretaker scooped the dirt into the grave by backhoe. When he was done he gave the family a respectful nod and went on his way.

"Mom? We really should get going now," Jamie said delicately after some time had passed.

Eve stood and walked towards the two graves and finally shed fresh tears for her husband and son.

"Well, Sean, this is it. Watch over our baby."

* * *

><p>At the house it was starting to wind down. Eve stood at the dining table holding a stiff glass of scotch as she surveyed the house and all of the people in it. Jamie excused herself from two FBI agents then approached her mother and put an arm around her.<p>

"Well, baby, it's just you and me, now," said Eve glumly.

"And Adam," Jamie reminded her with a smile. Eve looked over at Adam then, as he stood talking to one of Sean's old LAPD cronies but she did not answer her daughter.

"Here today, gone tomorrow," she said with a heavy sigh. "It's such a cliché but it's so fucking true. I mean, one day your dad I were sitting across from each at the dining table, talking about paint chips, of all things—he wanted to re-paint Adam's room. And the next morning he was dead beside me in bed. His heart just said, 'No thanks, not beating today.' Shit." Eve shuddered visibly as that horrible morning loomed fresh before her eyes.

"Oh, mom," Jamie tried to comfort her.

"I'm sorry, honey, I really need to lie down."

"Of course, mom."

"Please make my apologies, I really can't take anymore."

Jamie gave her mother a kiss upon her cheek. "Go on, mom, I've got this. I'll be in to check on you later."

"Thank you, honey." With that Eve left the room quietly, her weariness evident with every step.

At last the house was their own again. A cool sea breeze wafted through the house as Adam collapsed in a heap on the couch.

"I'm going to check on mom. Be right back."

"Sure," Adam said as he lit up a cigarette and threw the pack onto an end table next to the couch.

Jamie went to her parents bedroom to find her mother out like a light on top of her bed and shivering a bit in her sleep. She quietly closed the bedroom windows and covered her mother up with a blanket before tiptoeing out again.

"She okay?" asked Adam when she joined him on the couch.

"She's out cold. Scoot over...light one of those for me, would you?" she said, motioning to the cigarette he had just crushed out in an ashtray on the coffee table.

"Sure." The cigarette pack was on the end table next to Jamie. Adam leaned slowly across her, his body grazing hers ever-so lightly, never breaking his gaze away from hers as he retrieved the pack.

Jamie flashed back to an evening long ago when Castor Troy, disguised as her father, had entered her room and pulled almost the same exact move on her while she stood before him clad only in a t-shirt and panties. She didn't know it was not her father at the time and the uneasy feeling she'd felt then was eclipsed only by the fear of her father finding the cigarettes in her room. What a shock it had been when he lit one up instead of going all batshit, like she had expected him to do. Now, here was Adam acting so much like his real father that it almost frightened her. She had seen Castor with her own eyes but had only seen pictures of his brother Pollux. Adam looked like a nineteen year-old twin of his uncle, but without the glasses. It was uncanny.

Adam settled back in to his side of the couch and lit her cigarette, taking one long slow drag before he handed it to her. "Here ya go." He drank her in as she smiled knowingly at him. Jamie had been a lovely girl and had grown into quite a beautiful woman. At thirty she was fit and shapely and still looked like prom was just around the corner instead of a dozen years behind her.

"Are you as fucked-up right now as I am?" she asked him after she took a drag.

"More."

They both chuckled.

"Are we okay?" she asked him then, very seriously.

"Of course we are. Why wouldn't we be?"

"I just...last time, when..." she began uneasily.

"That was three long years ago, Jamie. I don't have any regrets and you shouldn't either. That was on me, not you."

"But..."

"But nothing. I'm not jail bait, anymore—we could be okay again if you want to," he said as he took her hand in his seductively.

"Stop it," she took her hand out of his and batted him lightly away.

"We're not brother and sister and you're not married anymore. So?"

"Seriously, Adam, stop. It was irresponsible of me then and still would be now. And you're still jail bait, dude, make no mistake about that."

"So you would if I was 'legal', huh?" he reached for her hand again.

"Adam, really. Stop," she said firmly through a smile.

"Okay, okay. I'll stop. For now." he unhanded her but not before he gave the back of her hand a sweet kiss. "So, how's Chicago been? I thought you would come back here after the divorce."

"What can I say? I love my job. Tim is a bit of a nuisance, but everything else is really great."

"What do you mean 'a bit of a nuisance'?"

"I had to get a restraining order against him."

"Oh, hell no. Maybe it's time that Tim and I finally met..."

"What? What do you mean? Are you going to come to Chicago and kick my ex-husband's ass? Is this what I'm hearing?" she laughed out incredulously.

"Yes, I would love to, thanks for asking."

"Bless your heart. I'm okay, really. Really."

They looked at each other, Adam searching her eyes for any trace of fear or wavering confidence and found none.

"Okay, but I'm available for rubbish collection anytime you need it."

"Hush, you. How's school going?"

"It's going. And I should be going, too. I think I'll look into some colleges in Chicago. I could use a change of scenery."

"What's wrong?"

That was a loaded question that Adam didn't know how to answer tactfully. Quite frankly, what was wrong was Eve. But he could never tell Jamie that.

"I just feel like I need to try somewhere new."

"This wouldn't be a good time to leave mom, Adam. And how about your aunt Talia? She would miss you like crazy, too."

Adam knew that leaving Eve would be a good thing, regardless of what Jamie thought. But the part about his aunt was definitely true.

"I need to go see her, actually. I haven't been by her place in a couple of weeks."

"Why didn't she come to the funeral?"

"She didn't want to upset Eve. Be honest, Jamie, you know Eve has never really been down with Sean introducing me to her all those years ago," Adam said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, I know. I remember how pissed she got when dad took me with you guys that one time to visit with her."

"That's what I'm sayin'."

"Are you really okay, Adam? Has mom been giving you a hard time? Honestly, tell me."

"Look, I loved being a part of this family," he began delicately.

"'Loved'? You're still a part of this family, Adam."

"You know, I don't really want to talk about it. I just think it's time for me to make my own way. I went to school because they wanted me to and I'm grateful for the opportunity. But Sean is gone now and I think Eve could use a fresh start, as well."

"Adam, talk to me," Jamie pleaded.

"I love you, Jamie. I loved you all," he said, realizing that was a partial lie. "But the glue that held it all together is gone, that's all." He rose from the couch to go.

"Adam, where are you going? Adam?"

"It's been a long day. And I am real fucked-up right now. I'm gonna take a walk down to the beach."

"I'll come with you," Jamie rose to go with him. "We all miss him, Adam," she said as tears began to brim in her eyes.

"I know. And I'm sorry, but I just need a little time alone. And we shouldn't both leave Eve right now. I promise to be a better shoulder when I come back, okay?"

"I think I understand. I'm here for you. I know you're there for me, too. Just don't be gone too long."

"Thanks, Jamie," he said as he headed for the door. Just as he was about to close it behind him Jamie called out to him.

"Adam?"

He turned to face her, looking a question.

"I think you would really like Chicago."

He smiled at her warmly and then turned and shut the door quietly behind him.

* * *

><p>There was a knock on her door.<p>

"Who's there?" she asked loudly and gruffly. It was after ten pm, for God's sake. Talia Burke's husband was out of town and she was home alone so she tried to make her voice sound as menacing as possible.

"Aunt Talia, it's me, Adam."

"Oh, baby, get in here," she said, her tone now full of love and concern as she rushed to undo all the locks and let her nephew in. "Adam, baby, are you alright?" she said after she released him from a warm bear hug.

"I'm okay. I just needed to get away for a while."

"Well, get on in here and have a seat, already. I really wanted to come, you know."

"I know, auntie. You don't have to explain to me."

"So, how is she?"

"As well as can be expected, I guess. It was a damn long day."

"Yeah, I saw some of it on TV. And Jamie? How is she?"

"Well, she's gotta be a rock for her mom, right now. I kind of boned out on her, but I really think she understood."

"I'm sure she did, honey. I mean, from all that you've told me over the years I really think Eve just started to freak the more you started looking like your uncle. I mean, I see Castor and Pollux both in you but you look like Pollux more than any body. Genes, huh?" she smiled at him and then took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "I think if your mom had been able to have more kids I would have had some nieces and nephews that looked like us, too. But I'm not complaining."

"I mean, she used to be really cool when I was little, but I think you're right. I mean, sometimes I catch her looking at me funny, you know? Like she's remembering something really bad and like it's all my fault. I can't take it anymore. I mean, I got my own feelings to deal with, you know?"

"Like what, baby?"

"Like, fuck...everything. Sean killing my father, my mother and my uncles. Damn."

"He didn't kill them all and you know it. And he really loved you, Adam. He helped your mother's dream come true for you."

"What dream is that?"

"To be a good boy. To grow up to be a good man. There's so much you don't know, Adam."

"Really? Well, enlighten me, huh? Once for all. Please. I really want to know the truth. What is the big secret that Sean kept from me all of these years? What else could there possibly be to know? My father was fucking insane and a criminal; my mother was his woman and my uncles were criminals, too. So, what else?"

"You don't know about the switch."

"What switch? What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm going to tell you some things, Adam, things that will make them all look bad, Sean included. But his heart was in the right place. And when it counted, so was your father's. It's some pretty unbelievable shit, but I promise you it all happened."

In the quiet of that late night Talia Hassler Burke told her nephew the story of Castor Troy and Sean Archer and how their lives had become so completely intertwined more than twenty years before.


	2. The Ties That Bind

**A/N Face/Off is a fantastic movie written by Mike Werb and Michael Colleary and directed by John Woo.**

I own absolutely nothing.

Adam and Eve

Ch 2 The Ties That Bind

When Talia was done with her story it was almost two in the morning. She looked at her young nephew waiting for the questions to come, could almost see them forming in his head.

"So wait a minute, Jamie knew about this?"

"Well, yes, later. Castor lived with them for a week, Adam."

"She never told me," he muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"She never told me," he said louder.

"Well, she wouldn't have. Sean told her not to. It was supposed to be a clean slate for you, Adam."

"Clean slate? Are you serious? I was little, but I remember some stuff, auntie. I remember that shootout at uncle Dietrich's. That's when I met my 'father' for the first time...just before the cops came. It all makes sense now."

"What, Adam? What makes sense now?"

"When I met 'dad' he called me by another name, a name I didn't recognize or hear very well. All I knew is that it wasn't my name. It was Michael's name. Then the cops came in blasting away at everybody. And I never saw uncle Dietrich again. Do you know that whenever I hear "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" it makes me so mad that I want to kill somebody?"

"What?" asked his aunt in confusion.

"I never could put a finger on the reason why but I know now. Mom and Archer put headphones on me to muffle the sound of the gunfire. "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" was playing. Whenever I used to hear that song I either started crying or wanted to beat somebody's face in. In fifth grade we did a school play—The Wizard of Oz. Whenever Linda Owens started to sing it in rehearsal I would get in a fight with somebody, anybody. One day I beat the shit out of Aaron Gerard and I was expelled from school for two weeks. I remember Eve was really bent out of shape about it."

"Oh, baby..." his aunt said apologetically.

"That fucking song reminds of them both. Because I never saw uncle Dietrich again and then mom left me with a friend and never came back. I was in Social Services and then Sean came and got me. Did my real father even know about me?"

"Not until that night, baby. Your mom had to keep you a secret. He left her and she had to protect you—if any of his enemies had known about you—and Castor had a lot of enemies—they would have killed you happily. By the time he knew you existed he was already almost a dead man."

"How the fuck did they even meet?"

"We all grew up together, Adam. Oh, where do I start," Talia said to herself as she wrung her hands in despair.

"Try the beginning," Adam said coldly.

"Hey, don't you take that tone with me, boy. I love you, but I won't stand for that."

"I'm sorry, aunt Talia. I just..."

"I know—you don't have to tell me. So I will...start at the beginning.

"Adam you come from a long line of criminals. It all started in New York. Your great-great-great grandfather was a hood from the Bronx. Small potatoes but earning his keep and supporting his family. He was a Russian emigrant. He couldn't get in good with the Mafia, because he wasn't Italian. But he provided other services that they found useful. He married a good Italian girl and they had two boys. Then he crossed somebody, some big time _Consigliori _and was shot dead, he and his wife, in their bed while they slept. The kids were left homeless. Luckily, the two boys were old enough to run numbers and their half-Italian blood got them work but not complete trust. We were Veselov's then. The brother's gave up the Mafia ghost and went to Pittsburgh. Somehow they got in to politics, translation—union-busting. They changed their names to Hassler and started to believe that they were Welsh, for some reason. They married nice Welsh girls, had families and did well for a while. Then one brother was shot at a union rally, leaving only a wife. The other brother, your great-great-grandfather got into politics for real. Of course, he was corrupt. By the time his sons were coming out of college he was murdered and his killer never caught. Your great-grandfather left Pittsburgh after college and came to Hollywood. He was a big deal producer and screwed everything in a dress until he met your great-grandmother, a German actress who could never get a break, not even with his help. She was a lush, you see and couldn't act her way out of a bottle. But she was beautiful as all get out. She died of cirrhosis of the liver at thirty-four. But she had your grandfather and he grew up connected in the movie business and took his act to Las Vegas.

"Now we're back with the Mafia again, this time trafficking in drugs and prostitution. He married a nice Italian girl. When she got the family history straight and started having children she named each one for an ancestor: Dietrich for the German great-grandmother; Sasha for great-great-great grandfather Veselov; and then me after her own mother. But dad got sloppy and had an affair with some hood's wife and was taken out to the desert and shot. His body was never found.

"We went from the lap of luxury to welfare over night. My mother left Vegas and came to Los Angeles to live with her sister. But my aunt was a prostitute and her pimp set his sights on my mother. She held him off for a long time, but she turned her first trick at the age of thirty-one and was busted her first time out. We were all taken away. Before she got busted Castor and Pollux went to school with Dietrich and Sasha. From what Sasha told me it was love at first sight. But Castor was pretty insane, even in elementary school. He and Dietrich both hated cops with a passion and were in juvie hall more often than not. Finally, we were all wards of the court but in separate institutions. Somehow, even though I was pretty old—seven—I got adopted. I lucked out. The couple turned out not to be closet swingers or pedophiles. Dietrich and Sasha were teenagers and developing quite a name for themselves in their own right. They used to break out of places to be together. And to check on me.

"Sasha used to tell me stories about some of the stuff they did. But she wasn't bragging or anything. She was telling me that the world was harsh and that even though we couldn't be together it was a good thing because I was safe. She said I had a chance at a real life and not to blow it. But she told me not to be stupid, either. She gave me a knife—one that Castor had given her. It was a switchblade but it was all crazy jagged. She said if any man—_any man, _including my adoptive father—ever came at me to try and do me harm, touch me when he wasn't supposed to? I was to stick that knife in his thigh and twist it so the wound wouldn't close and then run like hell. She said Castor had shown her how to do it. She was tough, your mother. And smart, and brave and beautiful. The last time I saw her as a child she gave me a post office address and told me I could get messages to her there and that she would come if I was ever in trouble. Then she told me not to fucking ever get in to trouble." Talia laughed lightly to herself at the memory.

"I remember I started to cry. I told her I wanted so much to be like her. She slapped me, slapped me hard as all get out. 'Don't you ever say that, Talia. Never again. I don't ever want you to be like me, do you hear me?' She slapped me again and then hugged me so hard I almost couldn't breathe, both of us bawling like babies. I don't think I had ever seen her cry before that.

"I didn't hear from her again until she had you. I was doing well in college, and she was so happy for me. 'You two are this family's new beginning,' she told me with pride. She said she named you Adam because you were the first man in the family with a chance for a good life. She meant for you not to be like her and Dietrich. But she had to keep you to protect you. She never would have given you up, Adam. She wanted to go legit, desperately, even if Dietrich never did. And he would have done the same thing with her as they did with me: he would have cut himself out of her life to keep her safe, both of you...all of us. And she could have done it, I know she could have, because she wanted it too badly. She just ran out of time, Adam. Especially after Castor came back."

"I still don't understand her and my father. I get that they grew up together, that they were both totally bad-ass..." Adam shook his head in confusion.

"She loved him, Adam, and he loved her. That's what I know. That's all I know. They were all caste from different metal, baby. Their world was all about love and sacrifice: you didn't sacrifice the people you love. You'd die first. And they did. At least your mom and uncle Dietrich. For your father that whole thing with Archer just went out of the stratosphere. It almost cost everybody everything."

"You seem to know so much about Sean—how do you know so much about Sean, aunt Talia? Did you two..."

"I told you not to talk to me that way, boy. I never, with Archer. He loved _you_, Adam. I knew he meant to do right by you when he brought you here. I think Eve thought she could replace Michael by taking you in. But Archer never felt that way. He made a promise to Sasha as she lay dying. He told me. We talked when he came here with you. He and I were the only ones who could talk about all of this. If he'd meant to have you as some kind of surrogate son he never would have brought you here to meet me, to get to know _your_ family. I'm sorry it was such a rotten family."

"No, I appreciate the truth. He must have known I would have. And my family is not rotten. I have you, aunt Talia. You're not rotten. I thank God for you. And you look so much like mom that it's breaking my heart," he said as he hugged her.

"Genes, huh? Something else, aren't they?"

"Yeah," he agreed as he wiped away his tears. "How did he find out about you?"

"Sasha told him to find me and protect me. Of course, she thought she was talking to Castor. As soon as he found me he brought you to me. He loved you, Adam. Please don't ever doubt that."

"It's a lot to process."

"I know."

"I can't stay with Eve anymore."

"What will you do?"

"I was thinking about leaving, maybe going to Chicago to be near Jamie, but that would just be trouble."

His aunt looked crest-fallen but recovered quickly. "Why? You and Jamie have always been close."

"A little too close."

"Adam? What? Oh my God, really? Okay, I don't really want to know. You guys aren't blood-related, after all. But really, Adam? Okay, shut up, don't answer."

Adam had to chuckle. "It was three years ago..."

"Three years ago! Adam, you were sixteen. Very big for your age, but—I didn't say that. I don't know what I'm saying," she said nervously.

"It's okay, auntie, it was just the one time. She was home, breaking up with her husband and I totally took advantage of her—it wasn't her fault. No, if I go away and was anywhere near her I promise it would all be kosher."

"Kosher, sure."

"C'mon, stop that. But I hate the idea of leaving you."

"So, don't leave. Come stay here. Get yourself together, figure some things out. We have a spare room."

"You have a husband and a life of your own. I can't impose like that."

"I can't offer my nephew a place to stay? Don't say no just yet. And don't leave just yet, either. Maybe you should just live on campus, or something."

"I don't know. But as soon as I do you will, too."

"Okay, fair enough."

"I should get back."

"You okay? Really, honey, are you alright?" she asked him as she took his face in her hands and studied him closely. He gave her a kiss to the forehead.

"I am. I love you, aunt Talia. Thank you so much."

"Oh baby, you never have to thank me for loving you."

He gave her a final kiss upon her cheek and left.


	3. Departure

**A/N Face/Off is a fantastic movie written by Mike Werb and Michael Colleary and directed by John Woo.**

I own absolutely nothing.

Adam and Eve

Ch 3 Departure

When Adam returned to the house he entered quietly through the front door. He went to the couch prepared to lie there and just think through all that his aunt had told him, hoping that sleep would find him quickly but unconvinced that he would be so lucky. To his surprise he found Jamie curled upon it, sleeping deeply. An empty bottle of her favorite Alsace Riesling was lying on the floor; on the coffee table several old photo albums were splayed about in a messy heap next to her half full wine glass. Adam sat on the floor beneath her and leaned upon the couch wearily. He reached for her wine glass and took it in hand, tracing the rim of it delicately as his eyes transfixed on the coral-colored lipstick stain upon it. He tipped the glass then and absently dipped the tip of his middle finger into the luke warm liquid, brought it carefully to his open mouth and let a drop fall onto his waiting tongue. It was definitely the good stuff, of the over two hundred dollars a bottle variety, and was as cool and sharp as his Jamie, with its crisp lime aroma still alive even in that one drop. He turned, looked up at Jamie and smiled to himself, thinking back on their night three years earlier. As he allowed himself the brief luxury of losing himself in that memory he became aware suddenly of other eyes upon him. He looked up further to find Eve's cold glare assaulting him from the kitchen pass-through over the couch. He turned around coolly, set the glass back on the table lightly and took one of the photo albums off the top of the heap and began to peruse it.

"Good morning, Eve. Are you feeling better?" he asked in earnest over his shoulder.

"I saw the way you were looking at Jamie—how dare you. Don't you ever lay a filthy finger on her, Adam. I want you out of here. Today. I'll still pay for school, but I want you out of here." Her voice was cold and resolute. Jamie began to stir in her sleep.

"What's going on, you two?" she said as she sat up, groggy and stiff, stretching through a yawn. Neither Adam or Eve answered her. "Mom? What's the matter?"

"Ask you 'brother'," she spit the word at her.

"What? Adam? What the hell is wrong with everybody?"

"It's like I told you last night, Jamie," he said as he flipped through the album and then stopped on a picture of him and Sean when he was eleven, playing Frisbee on the beach, "I could use a change of scenery."

"Knew that last night, did you?" Eve shot at him.

"Well, Eve," he said pointedly sounding so much like Castor Troy that it chilled her down to the bone, "I've actually known it since this..." he held up a picture for her to see of himself at thirteen, standing tall next to Sean at an awards dinner; smiling broadly, fresh-faced and innocent, looking like the spitting image of his uncle Pollux.

"You're going to put this on me, then?"

"Well, where else, _mom_?" Adam rose from the floor and faced her then flung the picture angrily at her. "Ever since I started looking like a Troy it was impossible for you to pretend that I was Michael anymore."

"That's not true..."

"It is true. For once in your life please be honest about that. Because that's what I've been living with all of this time, Eve. Your condemnation, your fear—you certain expectation that because I look like a Troy I would eventually become one. I know about my family, Eve, thanks to Sean. And I appreciate that. I loved him. I loved you. But your love for me died a long time ago and I know it. You're afraid of me and I've never done anything—ANYTHING—to try and make you feel that way."

Eve came out of the kitchen to stand before him.

"Don't you come off all sanctimonious and self-righteous, boy...I saw you—I saw the way you were looking at Jamie. I won't have _that_...I won't stand for it," she hissed at him.

"Well, I certainly feel you _mom_..." he began, unfazed by her venomous words and threatening stance.

"Adam, just let it go...Adam?" Jamie tried to still his tongue.

"But, uh, you're a little late on that one."

"Adam! Mom, he's just pulling your leg, really. Why won't you two stop this? Please stop this..." Jamie pleaded.

A look of horror came over Eve's face then.

"He's not lying...he's not lying and you're covering for him," she said incredulously to her daughter. "He's not lying...Jamie, how could you? How? When? Why in hell? I don't know you, not at all. I want you both out of here..." Eve said then as she backed out of the room in shock and disgust. "I want you both out of here, today. Damn Sean...damn Castor Troy...DAMN YOU ALL!" she screamed at them and ran out of the room.

"For God's sake, Adam—why? Why did you tell her?"

"Because she knew it already. What would have been the point in lying about it? I'm tired of lies and people who tell them—and live them."

"Oh, okay, really? Who's that one for—me or her?"

"Well, I was speaking about her, Jamie. You living some lie that I don't know about? Is there anything that you care to enlighten me on?"

"Like what, Adam?" she asked him angrily.

"Like, I don't know, about my father—Castor Troy? You remember him, don't you? Got any stories for me that you care to share, maybe?" Adam stared at her, waiting, making Jamie uneasy.

"Dad made me promise not to, Adam, that's the only reason I've never talked about him. I wanted to, Adam. Sometimes you do things, say things—your his son, for God's sake—that never surprised me about you, never scared me. I wanted to, but dad..."

"He knew Eve wouldn't be able to handle it. Everything for Eve."

"No, no Adam, not everything for Eve. His concern was for all of us."

"Yeah? Well, why was it always me who ended up being hurt the most?"

"I'm sorry for that, Adam. I apologize for her. But you just leveled a pretty fair amount of destruction just now and it totally wasn't necessary."

"Destruction? Really? You two will be fine. You're the one she loves. She'll be mad for a while, hurt—all of that shit. But she'll get over it because she loves you and only you. And her memories—of life with you and Sean and Michael...before Castor Troy...before me."

"Adam..."

"I still love you, Jamie. I'll never regret what we shared; I'll never forget how you welcomed me into this family; I'll never forget what happened three years ago, never regret it. I wasn't aiming for destruction, just honesty. I wish you could have been honest with me. With _me_. I understand why you weren't, but...I just wish...it doesn't matter anymore. I'm outta here. You'll both be fine. You're a grown-ass woman with a life of her own and Eve will get over it and forgive you—probably five minutes after I walk out of that door, if not sooner."

Jamie let out an exasperated sigh at his spot-on insight. "Adam..."

"I love you. I'll call you sometime in Chicago, after I get myself settled somewhere. I promise I won't come see you."

"Shut up, already, will you? I don't want to be cut out of your life. I'm not trying to cut you out of mine."

"Well, I found out from a reliable source that's what my people do when they're trying to keep the people that they love most safe. I come honest by that." He let his words sink into her.

"Adam..."

"Goodbye, Jamie. When it's safe, I'll be in touch." Adam went to her and gave her long hug goodbye.

"What do you mean 'safe'? Who's not safe?"

"I'm not safe, Jamie. Somewhere out there my father still has enemies; if any of them ever hear about me they'll try to kill me. Some strange things have happened to me over the past year, things I tried to talk to Sean about. He was in denial, too. But there are things he could have told me that could quite possibly save my life. That door is closed to me forever now. I can't be around any of you...not until I know it's safe. I went to my aunt last night and the things she was able to tell me only confirmed that. Eve can hate me if she wants; I'll get over my hurt; but I'd never be able to forgive myself if I was ever the reason for anymore real pain in her life or if either of you ever got hurt because of me. The same goes my aunt Talia."

"Well, then let's talk. Ask me anything," Jamie pleaded desperately.

"It's too late for that now, Jamie. Maybe someday we'll be able to really sit down and talk, and it won't even be about this stuff anymore, but about something better, happier. I gotta go."

"Adam, I love you. Please be careful...please get in touch with me, as soon as you can, promise?"

"I promise. I can't say it again..."

"I can't, either," Jamie said as the tears started to flow unchecked. She walked up to him then and placed her hand upon his face and caressed it in the way their family always had. As her hand left his chin he took it up into his own and kissed the back of it. After one last lingering look he walked out of the house, never to return again.


	4. Gone Like Yesterday

**A/N Face/Off is a fantastic movie written by Mike Werb and Michael Colleary and directed by John Woo.**

I own absolutely nothing.

Adam and Eve

Ch 4 Gone Like Yesterday

"MOTHER!" yelled Jamie as she stormed into Eve's bedroom. Eve was sitting on the edge of bed, still crying and upset over Adam's shocking revelation.

"How dare you come barging into my room like some sort of barbarian, you pedophile."

"Oh, give me a fucking break."

"Fucking an under-aged boy? Really, Jamie, who are you?"

"It was wrong of me, and I know that. It was wrong of both of us, but it wasn't what you're trying to make it out to be, mother. It wasn't something ugly or lewd or anything like you want to think. Whether you want to hear it or not it was sweet and beautiful and I don't regret it."

"Remember to forget to invite me to the wedding," Eve snorted in disgust.

"Stop it. He may have been only sixteen but he was every bit of a man."

"Really? Sixteen? That's the year you and Tim were separating...oh my God, what a cliché you are. How are you my daughter? My daughter would never do such a thing."

"Well, you know what, mother? I am your daughter. And Sean's daughter. And I did it. And I'm _still_ your daughter. So get over it. Or don't. I don't really care, at this point."

"Well, that's quite evident. When are you leaving?" Eve asked her coldly.

Jamie's eyes narrowed as she tried to regroup and calm her rage. "You'll be happy to know that he's gone."

"Good riddance to bad rubbish."

"What a bitch you are," said Jamie incredibly miffed.

"I won't have you disrespect me like that. Get out of here, now, Jamie."

"He left to save your life. And mine. And his aunt's. Had you or dad noticed anything strange going on with him over the past year?"

"How would I know? He never brought his friends around here; I don't even know who he hung out with when he wasn't here or with Sean."

"And you didn't want to know. Something was going on with him, mom, something that frightened him."

"I find that hard to believe."

"He tried to talk to dad about it but dad didn't want to face it."

"Oh, for Christ's sake, face what?"

"I don't know, mom, but whatever it was it was enough to make him feel like he needed to leave you—in order to protect you."

"Fucking protect me from what?" Eve asked her as she rolled her eyes in total disbelief and condescension.

"From the enemies of Castor Troy."

Just his name was enough to sober Eve. She looked up at her daughter as fear and the truth caused a visible shiver to run through her body.

"Yes, you heard me right. The boy you thought capable of hurting you left here because he feared more for your life than his own."

"What? I don't..."

"Yes. Chew on that."

"I don't...understand...why didn't he talk to us?" Eve's bewilderment was total and complete.

"He _tried_, mom, but neither of you were trying to hear him. He went to his aunt last night for some answers—whatever she told him convinced him that he had to leave here—yesterday."

"Oh my God...he should have told me—I still have contacts in the Department—there's someone who could help..."

"Well, a lot of good that does him, now. His exact words were: 'Eve can hate me if she wants; I'll get over my hurt; but I'd never be able to forgive myself if I was ever the reason for anymore real pain in her life or if either of you ever got hurt because of me.' Sound like the words of a psychopath to you? He's out there alone, on the run, convinced that somewhere out there Castor Troy's enemies know about him and sure that he's a target for murder."

"This is all too much..." Eve said as she began to pace the floor.

"Why did you have to treat him that way, mom? Were you really that afraid of him?"

"Yes!" Eve shrieked at her daughter a she wheeled around to face her. "Yes, I was that afraid, Jamie. You know what Castor Troy was like..."

"Yes, I do, but Adam is not his father!" Jamie yelled back at her.

"Jamie, I know that you love him, but genes are a powerful thing; I've read the dossiers on Castor and Pollux; on Sasha and Dietrich Hassler; Adam has a dark side and I know it in my gut..."

"We all have a dark side, mother. Adam has known ever since he's been with us who he came from—dad did not hide that from him. Knowledge is power—he had to know. But if you had just been able to cast aside your fears and prejudices..."

"I will not accept blame for this, Jamie. Adam, Adam, Adam! Always Adam! Well, what about me? Castor Troy was in this house a whole week, disguised as my husband! Your father! Ready to kill us whenever it suited him! Looking at Adam...it's like having PTSD for me..."

"I get that, mother. But you could have gotten help for that."

"No, I just should have said no to your father instead of yes," Eve said coldly.

"This is getting us nowhere. I need to make some phone calls...I need to know what Talia told him...and if you have any contacts at the department I want you to get on the phone and call them now—if you don't want to do it just give me the numbers and I'll do it myself."

"I'll call them, Jamie, and then I'm done with all of this...for good."

Jamie looked at her mother standing before her looking haggard and beyond frustration, yet imbued with an unwavering and steely resolve. "Fine. Fine, mother, I hear you loud and clear."

Both women left each other as they went to retrieve their cell phones.


	5. My Brother's Keeper

**A/N Face/Off is a fantastic movie written by Mike Werb and Michael Colleary and directed by John Woo.**

I own absolutely nothing.

Adam and Eve

Ch 5 My Brother's Keeper

Los Angeles, California. 1959.

Lillian O'Brien Troy sat up in her bed cradling her newborn son. For a moment she lost herself in her sweet baby as she cooed at him and marveled at the miracle of him. It had been a hard pregnancy, made harder by the beatings she'd suffered at the hands of her brutish husband. At that moment she knew that he boffing the pretty red-headed divorcee that lived next door in their little Spanish styled duplex, but she didn't care. She was actually glad. It meant that maybe—maybe—he might come home in a decent mood and leave her alone. Soon, she would be a divorcee; maybe not so pretty, but free of him, at last.

He had been so different when they first met and married. Her thoughts wandered back four years to the first time he met her parents...

* * *

><p>Her parents had been horrified that their innocent little girl had taken up with such an obvious rogue. He was handsome and tall but quite muscular for a man with such a thin frame. He wore his clothes well and looked just a little too slick for her mother when he pulled up in the circular drive in front of their house in his prized new red and white '55 Thunderbird convertible..<p>

"Lillian, really," snorted her mother as she peeped through the curtains in the living room window, "he just looks like trouble through and through." Mrs. O'Brien fingered her pearl necklace nervously. "Your father is not going to like this...I don't like this. His pants are too tight and his hair is too long," she said of his dark curly hair. "He looks like he just got off the boat. Does he even speak English?"

"Don't be absurd, mother. He speaks Greek, English, Italian _and_ a little French, thank you very much. Don't be such an elitist. If he had money you'd have a red carpet rolled out and tea and crumpets in your hand," Lillian said as she primped herself for the hundredth time that day.

Her mother walked up to her then and gave her daughter a hard smack to her cheek. "Lillian Mary O'Brien, how dare you speak to me that way! Is that what they're teaching young girls in college these days? How to be rude, disrespectful and fast? Apologize to me, this instant," her mother demanded hotly.

Lillian stood stock still, shocked at her mother's outburst and seething with anger. Just then her father walked into the room.

"Now, now—what's going on here? Edna? Lillian?" he looked at them both in shock.

"Nothing, daddy."

"_Nothing, daddy_," her mother mocked her indignantly. "That's what's wrong with you now, you've been coddled all of your life," Edna O'Brien looked to her husband then, an accusatory gleam in her eyes.

"What is the problem here?" her father demanded angrily.

"Your twenty-three year old college co-ed seems to think that she's got the mysteries of life all worked out and he's coming up the walk as we speak," she said snidely to him. Just then the doorbell rang.

Lillian made to go to the door but her father stopped her and proceeded to answer it himself. He opened it to find a handsome young Greek man with a broad smile standing there, a bouquet of roses in one hand, his other stuck out in greeting. Mr. O'Brien took it.

"Hello, sir. I'm Panos Troy, your daughter's date this evening. So nice to finally meet you."

* * *

><p>Lillian looked at her baby and came back to the present. Everything her mother had feared had come true: Lillian dropped out of school and never got her degree; Panos whisked her away to Greece and all over Europe for three years, showering her with the finest things his money could buy as they lived a life on the go and in style. She thought he was the son of a wealthy olive oil exporter—at least, that's what he had told her. They married in 1957 and continued to enjoy the high life. But over the course of the following two years the ugly truth had come to light and Lillian was powerless to ignore it or get away from him. Panos was a heroin dealer. Over time he began to use his own product and soon was addicted to it himself.<p>

As his contacts and business dried up and his addiction grew stronger the beatings began. Next came the endless parade of other women, always very young and typically prostitutes. When Panos hit rock bottom they moved back to Los Angeles and settled in the Pico Union area, living in a property owned by the friend of a friend of a friend. It was a far cry from the tony Palos Verdes Estates neighborhood Lillian had grown up in but she kept a stiff upper lip and determined that she would deal with it until she could get free of him. Many times, when Panos was desperate for a fix he would scream at his wife to call her parents for money.

"I'd rather take the beating, you bastard," she told him defiantly. He would always happily oblige. After one particularly savage beating Panos raped her, then skulked away and left her for three weeks, broken and destitute. When he returned he had cleaned himself up and brought home money to pay the bills. He said nothing to her about that night, never acknowledged what happened and gave her a look like he'd kill her if she had any complaints. At that point he was dead to her. When he started up with the prostitutes again she was actually thankful. To her horror, a month later, she found that she was pregnant.

She started pinching off chump change whenever she could so that she could pay the fees to file for a divorce. By the time she was seven months along she had been to the courthouse and done just that. She knew that she was on borrowed time as she waited for the papers to come. But she had to wait it out and deal with the consequences. She wanted to see him be served with her own eyes. She was still working on just how she would do that and escape him. It was all she thought at about until Ajax was born.

She heard his key in the lock and his heavy footfall as he came in. As she had hoped he was drunk and satisfied. He said nothing to her as he fell on the bed beside her and promptly began snoring.

The day finally came when the server knocked on the door and left quickly as Panos took them and shrugged his shoulders in question at her. As he opened up the envelope Lillian backed cautiously away; four-month old Ajax began to fuss in her arms . She watched him read the papers in his hand as a dark cloud of rage overcame his face. He turned to her, looking as if he could breath fire.

"You bitch. Put that brat down," he ordered her.

"No, I'm leaving you, Panos. You're not going to lay a finger on this baby or me. Never again," she told him quietly.

"Yeah? That's what you think..." he said menacingly as he advanced towards her.

"NO!" she screamed. Panos took the baby from her and put him in his crib. As Ajax cried from the other room Panos chased his frantic wife around the living room and caught her easily.

"Didn't anybody ever teach you to never say never?" he spit in her face as he held her by the throat. It was quite some time before her cries, mixed with the cries of her child, and the heavy blows of her husbands fists, finally subsided.

* * *

><p>Los Angeles, California. 1970.<p>

Ajax Troy, now a rough and tumble boy of eleven, played alone outside of his house. Panos was long gone; Lillian had gotten a job at the phone company and managed to hold on to the little duplex that she shared now with her son and boyfriend, a construction worker named Joe Hartig. Ajax had never met his father. He had a picture of him and would have thought him a total figment of his imagination if it hadn't been for their strong resemblance to one another, especially about the eyes. He looked at the picture often, trying to see if he could muster up any emotion for the man. He never could. He felt nothing at all. He never asked about him and his mother never talked about him. He was just a man in a picture.

It was a sunny Saturday morning and he sat on his steps organizing a complex battle between his twelve GI Joe Adventure Team action figures and a marauding slinky. Absorbed in placing his troops in just the right formation to topple like dominoes he was caught by surprise when he found that two small boys were watching him intently from the walk leading to his steps.

"Hey," said the older boy, "Does Lillian Troy live here?"

"Yeah. She's my mom," Ajax answered the boy.

"Is she home?"

"Naw, she's at work. But she'll be here by six. Who are you?"

The boy studied him, really studied him hard and then gave him a look as if he recognized him from somewhere.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Ajax Troy. What's your name?"

"I'm Castor Troy. This is my brother, Pollux."

* * *

><p>Los Angeles, California. 1997.<p>

Lillian O'Brien Troy lay in her hospital bed, wheezing as she slept fitfully. Ajax had been with her all day and they had seen the news footage of the carnage leveled by Castor Troy and Sean Archer at the docks of Los Angeles Harbor. It was on every station. Lillian wept softly for Castor; unable to take any more she escaped into sleep.

Ajax settled himself in his chair after he left her bedside and stared dumbfounded out of the window lost in his own thoughts...

* * *

><p>Los Angeles, California. 1970.<p>

"Joe, they're only seven and three, for God's sake. They need somewhere to stay—I can't turn them away."

"I don't know what kind of bitch you are if you think I'm going to stay here and feed three boys who don't even belong to me, Lil," said Joe when he got home from work and found Panos Troy's two youngest boys playing with their half-brother on the living room floor.

Lillian smarted at his comment on several accounts, one being that he was voicing his displeasure in front of the boys, and the other being that he had never spoken to her in that manner before. She didn't appreciate either development.

"Joe, I'm going to ask you nicely never to speak to me that way. Let's take this conversation to the other room," she said firmly.

"No. This is the real world, Lillian, right here. In the real world, a real woman wouldn't take in her abusive ex-husbands bastard children!" All three boys stopped playing then, unable to ignore any longer the fight going on over them.

"Boys?" Lillian turned to the three on the floor, "would you mind going to Jax's room and get yourselves ready for bed? Jax, show them where everything is, huh? The two of you can sleep on the bunk bed," she said to Castor and Pollux, "and Jax, you pull out your sleeping bag and you guys can pretend your camping in the jungle tonight, yeah?" she suggested to them with a hopeful lift of her eyebrows. The boys all smiled at her, happy to know that she wanted things to go her way, even though they were all unsure if they really would. They left the room reluctantly, Ajax most of all.

"Go on, baby, momma's gonna be alright," she assured him when she noticed him lingering. Ajax finally left his mother but gave Joe a look.

"There! That right there! Did you see that? He's challenging me. You gonna stand for that? Because I'm not," Joe said angrily.

"Then don't, Joe. This is my house. And I say they can stay."

"Yeah? Well, what happens when their father comes for them? What about that? He's crazy and you know it. He doesn't even have to be crazy—all he has to do is call the police—then what?"

"He's not going to do that. They ran away for a reason."

"Yeah, you know about that first hand, don't you?" he said nastily.

"Joe, I'm trying real hard to still love you right now, but you say one more wrong thing..."

"Or what?" Joe walked closer to his woman, wheeled her back to him and took her roughly into his arms. "Or what, Lil? You gonna put me out? You don't want me out," he growled into the back of her neck as he yanked her closer into his body. Lillian found the hardness of him to be unwelcomed and she tried to pull away. "Liar. You don't want me out, you want me in. Those boys need to go, Lil. You might not want to admit it but you know that I'm right. Panos is trouble. That means they're trouble."

"Does that go for my son, as well?" she broke away from him. "They stay. Deal with it or leave."

Joe did leave. Although it was tough on Lillian's meager pay Castor and Pollux had one happy year with her until their father showed up one cold December night with the police. Pollux took it the hardest as he had really bonded with Lillian. Their own mother had been too strung out most of the time to know that they were even alive. And their father saw them as little more than slaves, to be used any way that he wished.

"No! NO!" screamed almost four-year old Pollux, "Don't make us go back! Don't make us go back! Lillian! Please..." he cried uncontrollably. Castor had told Ajax their story; as the two boys tried to calm little Pollux, Jax's tears flowed unabashed and unchecked.

Lillian's heart was breaking. "Panos, let them stay," she begged him.

"You want my kids, Lillian? Really? Try taking it to court," he hissed at her. "Both of you shut the fuck up and come on," he barked at his two boys.

It was the first time Ajax had ever seen his father in the flesh and the man did not even acknowledge him. His brothers were whisked away from him in a blur of red flashing lights. He and his mother held each other as they sat on the couch; they cried together for the rest of that awful night until exhaustion and sleep finally found them.


	6. Breakout

**A/N Face/Off is a fantastic movie written by Mike Werb and Michael Colleary and directed by John Woo.**

I own absolutely nothing.

Adam and Eve

Ch 6 Breakout

Los Angeles, California. 1998.

As Ajax Troy stood at his mother's grave he grieved for everything in his life. He grieved over the breast cancer that had almost taken her away from him when he was twelve; he grieved over the emphysema she'd suffered from that finally did; he grieved over his brothers, Castor and Pollux, whom he had lost touch with and were now gone forever; he grieved over the fact that his father had ruined so many lives and was still doing so even though he was nineteen years in his own grave; he grieved over not being the one who had finally killed the bastard.

* * *

><p>After Panos Troy came for his two young sons Lillian was as inconsolable as she would have been had they been her own biological children. Ajax was able to find them and the boys would meet in secret. Every time he saw them their circumstances were worse than the time before.<p>

Their first meeting had been three weeks later; Ajax cut school one day to go and find them at theirs. He wandered easily onto he playground at lunch time and took his seat across from them at their table.

"Jax!" cried out Pollux happily.

"Shh...I love you, too, little dude, but keep it down, okay? You get a big hug when we leave here. Castor, you okay?"

"I'm alive, Jax...that's all I can say," he said as he scoped the playground for any teachers that might recognize that Jax shouldn't be there.

"Our mama died," Pollux announced sadly.

"Hey, I'm sorry."

Pollux began to sniffle.

"Stop it, Pollux. She's the lucky one," his big brother reprimanded him.

"Castor?" Jax was shocked at his callousness.

"How's Lillian?" Castor asked him then.

"She still feels really bad. So do I."

"We'd come see you but Panos would probably kill her and then all of us."

Ajax noted that Castor called their father by his first name, which didn't surprise him at all.

"He's already got a new woman. Some go-go dancer that works in Hollywood," Castor informed him sourly.

"Daphne. She seems kinda nice—she brought me this Hot Wheels car," Pollux pulled a little aqua blue die-cast metal 1970 Ferrari from his pant pocket.

"Cool, man," Ajax smiled at him.

"It's a fucking bribe, Pollux. I told you to throw it away," said Castor as he snatched it of his hand and tossed it loudly into a nearby steel garbage can.

Pollux said nothing more as the tears came to his eyes.

"Stop fucking crying, Pollux—I told you about that..." said Castor angrily as he fought back his own.

"Cas, lighten up on him," Ajax ventured delicately.

"No, Jax, we're all we've got. We can't be wimps."

"You've got me, too," Ajax reminded him.

"Look, I'm just trying to save your life. And ours. That fucker is crazy. I'd _rather_ be in a foster home than stay with him. And I'm working on it."

"No, Cas—if you do that it will be impossible for me to see you."

"Look, if we're in school you'll see us, okay? I gotta get Pollux away from him. _I_ gotta get away from him. You remember what I told you before?"

"Yes", said Ajax uncomfortably.

"Well, it's gotten worse. I gotta get us out," he said with all of the seriousness of a fifty year old man.

"Can you meet me after school?"

"I can't. But come for Pollux. He's in an after-school program until four-thirty when I come to get him. I can feed 'em anything and they'll believe me. You'd have from one-thirty until I come get him. Cool?"

"Cool. Hey Pollux, McDonald's and the park after school?" Ajax asked him brightly.

Pollux wiped at his eyes and nose with the back of his shirt sleeve and nodded his head yes.

"Cool. I'll be waiting for you at the gate, okay?"

Pollux nodded again. The lunch bell rang then signaling the end of the period. The boys collected their things and got ready to part.

"Pollux, wait..." Castor went to his little brother and knelt at his feet and tied his loose shoe strings. "There," he gave his brothers foot a loving pat then looked up at him. "After school...come straight to the gate and we'll both be waiting, okay?"

Pollux nodded.

"Alright, go on. Love you, little bro."

Pollux waved at his brothers and headed for the que of boys and girls standing in front of the bungalow where his classroom was.

"Thanks, Jax."

"I love you too, little bro. Don't ever forget it."

That became their routine for the rest of that year. Ajax never told his mother that he was seeing the boys because he couldn't even remotely lie to her and if he'd told her the truth about how they really were she might go off the deep end. She went in for a routine medical exam one day and the the doctor found a lump in her breast. It had been a horrible year. Then Castor made good on his promise to get out of his father's house.

Panos had cleaned himself up enough to score good product and some decent clientele. The new hot drug was cocaine and he was just starting to pull in some serious money. One night, during a major deal at his house, he was busted and hauled in by LAPD for his very first stint in jail. Social Workers came for Castor and Pollux at three that morning. Castor called Ajax the next day, almost ecstatic.

"The bastard is in jail, Ajax," Castor laughed into the phone.

"What happened?"

"Very big cocaine deal...anonymous call and bingo...he's outta there."

"What about Pollux?"

"We're together right now. That could change, but I'm not worried. I don't give a damn who says what—Pollux stays with me."

"I hope you're right," Ajax said worriedly.

"You can bet on it."

"Castor?"

"Yes big brother?" Ajax could hear his smile over the phone.

He whispered into the phone, "You made the call, didn't you?"

"Who, me?" Castor laughed out loud, standing out like a sore thumb amongst all the other boys in the day room; most of them were big-time delinquents; the rest were juvie virgins, like him and Pollux; all of them were sullen and whipped but Castor was laughing like he was the happiest boy on earth. Another virgin was staring at him from across the room, a boy named Dietrich that he'd seen around school. Castor waved at him. The boy just continued to stare.

"Cas, you still there?"

"I'm here, bro, but not for long. I'll call you again as soon as I can. Don't worry about us, Jax—I know what I'm doing. We'll see you soon, okay?"

"Okay, little brother."

"Hey..." Castor said suddenly.

"What?"

"Don't hug Lillian for me, will ya?"

"I won't," Ajax smiled through the phone.

That night, at the hospital—although she didn't know it—Ajax gave his mother two extra hard hugs—one from Castor and one from Pollux.

It had been increasingly harder for Ajax to catch up with his brothers after that. It was almost four years before he actually laid eyes on them again although they talked on the phone fairly often. By the time they did Ajax was a strapping boy of almost sixteen, Castor was twelve and Pollux was eight. Ajax was driving a used green '73 Chevy Camaro on his learner's permit that was his pride and joy. When Castor called him one summer day in June of 1974 he raced to go pick them up from their current foster care digs and took them to the beach.

"Castor's got a girlfriend," Pollux sang from the backseat.

"Oh yeah? Who wants your little sausage, dude?" Ajax teased him.

"Shut the fuck up, man. I'm packin' major heat...down there...and here, too," Castor beamed at him as he pulled a .357 Magnum form his jacket pocket. Ajax swerved out of control momentarily when he saw the gun his brother was waving his way.

"Fuck, man! Aim that fucker away from me and put it away before some cop sees you, Jesus!"

"It's cool, bro," he said calmly and did as his brother asked.

"Damn, Cas..."

Pollux was unfazed in the back seat. "Her name is Sasha. She just moved in next door," he chimed out, continuing to drop dime on his brother.

"I know her brother...we're all pretty tight."

"Cool, man. She cute?"

"Fine as wine and all mine," he smiled over at his brother.

"Shit, man, are you really just twelve or are you forty-two disguised as a twelve year old? Sheesh..."

"Wait til you meet her, bro—she's a real bad-ass—my kinda girl. I'm gonna marry her, someday, just you wait and see."

They were at Venice Beach by then, parked on a side street off of Abbot Kinney near Brooks. They gathered their things and got out of the car.

"Come on, Romeo," Ajax ribbed his little brother, "Put a sock on it for a while and let's hit the waves, huh?" The boys all laughed as they headed for the beach.

* * *

><p>That was the last time he saw Castor and Pollux. His own life had taken as criminal a turn as Castor's that led Ajax to Manhattan after Lillian had the cancer nuked out of her and recovered from a double mastectomy. Even from New York he was hearing things through the years about his baby brothers, things that disturbed even him. Sometime around 1989 Ajax heard no more buzz about his brothers at all. He knew that Castor was involved in something heavy, but had no idea how heavy it was until he saw the news that day in his mother's hospital room the previous year.<p>

He stared at his mother's grave again as a single tear streamed down his cheek. Her cold, marble headstone brought him out of memory lane and back to real time. He walked a few paces away to four other marble headstones. There lay the graves of Castor, Pollux, Sasha and Dietrich, all together again, finally. Ajax had quite a time trying to secure Castor's body from the FBI and managed to do so through a liaison who carried out the task in his stead; he had been careful not be traced or linked to his brothers. But he'd finally managed it and had given them all a proper burial.

He lingered a while longer before he said his silent goodbyes to them all. He headed to his car with a new resolve—Ajax Troy still had some family left. There was a sister, Olympia Christopoulos, who was about twenty-three then; and a nephew, Adam Hassler, six years old and the spitting image of Pollux—who had been taken in by the FBI agent responsible for Castor's death. Ajax had some research to do and some calls to make; when the time was right he would come calling for them both.


	7. Champagne Life

**A/N Face/Off is a fantastic movie written by Mike Werb and Michael Colleary and directed by John Woo.**

I own absolutely nothing.

Adam and Eve

Ch 7 Champagne Life

Los Angeles, 1998. A strip club somewhere in Hollywood.

A group of dancers in various states of undress are preparing for their performances. Some are applying makeup. Some are talking shit and fighting. One young, dark-haired girl passes a joint to another girl in a blue wig. The girl in the blue wig passes her a straw.

The dark-haired girl has just snorted some shit; her head begins to loll about as she starts to feel her high. She hangs her head as the straw drops from her hand.

Presently, the dark-haired woman stands up from her chair. She walks toward the stage as she gives her costume one last adjustment.

"...Gentlemen a warm welcome for Ari!" the announcer introduces her. She takes to the stage then amidst hoots, hollers and whistles.

She starts working the hell out of the pole, her back to the audience. Her body is perfection and her routine is flawless—she has the crowd in the palms of her hands.

She finally turns to face the audience; shortly she finishes her dance in a fury and lands on the floor, littered with bills, in a heap, to thunderous applause; more catcalls and whistles, a sea of hands groping for her even though they cannot reach her. She raises up slowly, weary and jaded and begins to collect her money. As she finishes a hand raises up, attached to a tall handsome gentleman in a fine European cut suit and a thousand dollar bill. She looks at him suspiciously. She is not in the mood for a private dance, no matter how handsome he is. If her boss sees her turn him down she'll get in trouble but she almost doesn't care. The man waves the bill at her, snapping her back to attention. She approaches him.

"I see the apple doesn't fall far from the tree..."

"Whatever, man...you want a private dance or not," she says, all business.

"Not."

She shrugs indifferently but is secretly relieved as she takes the crisp bill from him and proceeds to go backstage.

"Ari?" he calls out to her authoritatively enough to make her stop and turn around. _Fuck_... she says to herself disgustedly.

"Yes? You change your mind?"

"No, Olympia, I have not changed my mind. Your mother is Daphne Christopoulus, is she not?"

"Who wants to know, mister?"

"Your father was Panos Troy?"

"For the last time, mister, what's it you?" she asks him, unafraid to show her irritation.

"It's everything to me, _sis_."

"I'm calling security..."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Come on down from there—I need to talk to you. I'll pay for your time and I'll not leave this seat. Come on..." he coaxes her. She obeys him. When she takes her seat beside him she she eyes him carefully.

"Just because you're a big tipper doesn't mean I have to put up with just anything."

"I know that. Bear with me, please." He pulls out an original copy of Panos and Lillian's wedding photo. "That was your father's first wife, Lillian..." he says as he sets it before her. He pulls out another old photo, this one of he and his mother just a year after he was born. "That's me and my mother."

"This proves nothing. I know my dad was married before; I know he had three boys before me. So what." She rises to go. The man grabs her wrist suddenly.

"Sit down, Olympia. These pictures may mean nothing to you, but maybe my name will—Ajax Troy."

Olympia recoils. She knows the name well. She knows that all of her brothers are bad business but she has never met any of them. The only ones her mother ever talked about were Castor and Pollux. But she knows there was another named Ajax who was real serious shakes in New York. Because she was illegitimate she has always gone by her mother's maiden name and no one knows her connection to her father or her infamous brothers. She's been happy to keep it that way. To further confirm his identity he calls over to her sleazy boss.

"Mr. Troy, I'd like to say again how great it is to have you here. Is Ari treating you well?"

"Oh, she is, Zack, very much so. I'd like to ask a little favor?"

"Sure, name it..."

"This is for you..." he hands Zack five thousand in cash. "I'd like Ari to entertain me for the rest of the evening if that's all right with you?"

"With my compliments, Mr. Troy." Zack snaps his fingers at Ari. "You heard the man—go back and make yourself presentable for an evening out. See you back here tomorrow night. Don't disappoint him."

Olympia rises to leave them.

"Meet me in my car out front, dear," Ajax says smoothly, "white Alfa Romeo."

Olympia goes to the back and changes into jeans, tank top and a jacket then slips out the back exit door. She walks around front and finds Ajax behind the wheel of his white Spider.

"I figured since you're my brother and all I didn't have to get all hoochied-up, but I didn't want my boss to see me," she says as she slides in beside him in the front seat.

"Sis, if I have my way, you'll never see your boss or this place again," he smiles at her as he speeds off into the night.

* * *

><p>"A kid? Really?" Olympia says, flabbergasted as she looks through his collection of photo albums. She is stuck on one of Sasha, Dietrich and Adam, taken just two years prior. "She was so beautiful..."<p>

"Yes, she was," he concurs simply.

Ajax has taken Olympia to his house in Malibu Canyon. She's been in nice places before, mansions and the like but never let herself get too excited or impressed. But this was different; this was family and he was telling her that he wanted to set her up the same way, provide her with anything her heart desired.

"I want to go to school, Ajax. I have a brain, believe it or not."

"I know you do. Your mother wasn't a bad woman, none of Panos' women were. I'll take care of her, as well. I want my family together."

"And what about Adam? He's with that FBI agent—how do you propose..."

"I don't know yet...that's going to take some time. In the meantime, you get your education. I want you to go to school here. Just pick one and I'll get you a condo near by."

"I don't know what to say, Ajax, thank you doesn't begin to cover it."

Ajax takes her in his arms and hugs her tightly, then holds her at arms length. "No more drugs, Olympia, not even grass. I want you clean, do you understand?"

"I understand. Deal."

"Good. I will collect Adam one day. And when I do I want him to be happy about it."


	8. And Then The Call Came

**A/N Face/Off is a fantastic movie written by Mike Werb and Michael Colleary and directed by John Woo. **

_**This is for my dear reader in (?)—you know who you are even if I don't. I liked your idea so I thought I'd play with it—**_

_**Thanks to all who have taken the time to read and to those who have reviewed. I hope you like the rest of the story.**_

* * *

><p>I own absolutely nothing.<p>

Adam and Eve

Ch 8 And Then The Call Came

"Hey man, thanks for letting bunk with you."

"No problema, dude. Hey, you feel like hittin' Sandy Miller's party tonight? It's gonna be major—everything your heart desires and then some..."

Adam looks at his buddy lying on the floor, who's already high on home-grown bud and rolling another joint. He and Jace have been friends since seventh grade and are brothers from another mother; he is the epitome of the shaggy blonde long-haired surfer dude; they knew all of each other's darkest secrets, even though Jace had far fewer than Adam. The only reason he felt even remotely safe coming to his house was because Eve had never met him, knew nothing of him at all, even though Jace's family had known him and Sean well.

Sean had realized that there had been a shift in Eve's attitude towards Adam; it had caused Adam to gravitate away from her and planted a seed of solitude and a great need for privacy in him that Sean had honored. Even so, Sean had made it clear to Adam that as long as he wished to continue to invite him in to his life he would welcome it as an honor and privilege. Their bond had been an honest one and Adam had never found that hard to do.

"Hey man, I understand if you don't want to go," said Jace as he sits up and faces his friend. "I just thought maybe you might welcome the distraction..."

"It's cool, Jace. I appreciate you, man, you know that."

"What do you want to do, Adam?" Jace is not talking about the party.

"I want to call that fucking number. Something in my gut tells me that I should—don't know where the fuck that's coming from, though..." he says worriedly.

"You've been getting these notes for a whole year, man—if somebody wanted to put you down for a dirt nap it would have been done by now, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I do. But I just can't imagine who it could be dude, unless they were trouble—some sick fuck just enjoying playing out the drama, you know?"

"Whatever, man—when you make the call I want to be there," his friend tells him resolutely.

"Who says I'm gonna make it?"

"Okay, _if_ you make the call I'm gonna be there."

"No man, I've endangered you already just being here..."

"Shut the fuck up. You're not in this alone, Adam. End of story."

There came a knock on Jace's door then.

"Yeah?"

"Boys, I've got a nice rack of lamb down here—come get dinner..." says Jace's mom through the closed door. Adam goes to open it.

"Thanks, Mrs. Cutter," he gives her a hug which she receives and returns gladly. She sniffs the air then.

"Jace?" Her tone is accusatory.

"Yeah?" He goes all innocent.

"You've been in your father's stash again..." she shoots him a stern look.

"Can I help it if I have the coolest parents ever?"

"One 'cool' parent...you know I don't touch the stuff. He's going to kill you if you do it again and I won't be able to defend you, young man," she warns him.

"You guys want me to be buying questionable stuff off the street?"

"I want you to not smoke that crap at all, Jace."

"But mom..."

"I'm not covering for you, Jace. I want you to stay out of his stash—you'll be sorry if you don't. You want to smoke that shit then move in to a place of your own and have at it. That your father does it drives me crazy enough."

"But mom..."

"Air this room out and come down to dinner, both of you. I'm not kidding." She closes the door and leaves them. Adam is already at the window raising the sash letting in the cool ocean breeze.

"Man, for the life of me I'll never understand what dating hell brought my parents together..." Jace lets out a heavy sigh as he lights some incense and starts clearing away his paraphernalia.

"Ditto, dude, ditto..." says Adam.

* * *

><p>The phone rings. It's almost three in the morning but he's wide awake as he is every morning at that time. He picks up on the third ring, already annoyed then more so as he sees a number he doesn't recognize.<p>

"Hello?" he says gruffly.

"This is Adam Hassler. I've been left several messages to call this number. Who the fuck are you and what do you want?"

The man hears the fear in his voice behind the bravado and smiles to himself. _Good boy, Adam, you've got balls. _

"I'm someone you need to meet, Adam. Where are you?"

"Who the fuck are you, man?" The voice over the phone is angry and beyond fear now.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me, motherfucker."

"Look, calm down and listen to me. Do you know where the 24 Hour Cafe is in Long Beach?"

"Hell no."

"Well, find it—and meet me in an hour. I've been waiting for this call, Adam. Don't pussy out on me."

"How will I know you?"

"I'll be with a brunette female."

"That fucking helps, like not at all."

"We'll know you, Adam. When I see you she'll come to the door and bring you to our booth."

"Whatever." The line goes dead.

The man rushes upstairs and bursts into to the room of the sleeping brunette and shakes her awake.

"What the fuck?"

"Adam just called—let's go..."

"Fuck, really? Give me ten minutes..." she says as she jumps out of bed to get dressed.

The man goes to another room and knocks on the door lightly. He hears its inhabitant's slow, shuffling footstep and he waits patiently for the door to open.

"What?"

* * *

><p>Adam and Jace stare at a pay phone, both in shock.<p>

They had gone to Sandy Miller's party to blow off steam, after all, but neither young man could really get in to the party mood. Jace sat with his friend throwing back beers as Adam sat most of the evening unfolding and re-folding a piece of paper with a faded phone number written on it that he had committed to memory months before; he had studied the script many times over and had determined early on that the bold strokes were those of a man, probably as robust as they were. When Adam finally tore it to shreds and threw it to the floor Jace knew his friend was ready to dial it.

"Am I really doing this, Jace?"

"Are we really doing this..." he corrects him.

"And did I really just use a fucking public pay phone?" he asks disgustedly.

Jace laughs. "Come on, dude, we should get going."

"I really think I should do this alone..." Adam begins uneasily.

"No way. If everything is cool, I'll split. But if any shit at all goes down someone needs to be there and you know it. Don't fuckin' even try to argue with me on this—let's go," he says firmly as he heads to his parked car.

Adam finds that his feet are moving but feels totally disconnected from himself as he gets in the passenger seat of his best friend's car.

* * *

><p>Forty-five minutes later they are parked outside of a cool little truck stop just north of the Long Beach Harbor.<p>

"I'll go in first, okay?" Jace tells him and then gets out of the car.

Adam sees his friend disappear through the door then takes a deep breath. He exits the car and locks the doors manually from inside and shuts the door hard.

He goes to the door and jerks it open as if he's expecting someone to pounce on him. If he had a gun it would be drawn. He doesn't even get a chance to look around the diner as he immediately sees a woman come his way; she looks to be about thirty-five or so, attractive and slim, looking fairly hip in well-fitting hip-hugger jeans and a tucked in buttoned-down shirt and well-weathered brown leather jacket. She smiles as she approaches him.

"Adam? Adam Hassler?"

"Yes?"

"I'm your aunt Olympia," she says simply.

"What?" he asks in disbelief.

"I want you to come meet your uncle Ajax," she continues smiling at him and resisting the urge to hug him mightily.

"What the fuck are you talking about, lady?"

"Just walk with me, okay? Please? Don't make a scene—I promise everything will be explained to you. Please?" she motions him to follow her. Adam looks around the diner for his friend, who is at a booth facing the door and looking dead at him for any sign of trouble I his eyes. Adam squints his eyes slightly and just barely gives a nod of his head to let him know that so far he's okay. He follows Olympia to a bright yellow booth where two men are sitting, waiting for them.

"Okay, who the hell are you people?" Adam looks at the men suspiciously and then back to Olympia.

"Sit down, Adam," comes the voice he recognizes from the phone. He is a robust man, swarthy and foreign-looking and impeccably dressed in a navy blue suit with longish dark curly hair. He looks like a distinguished model in a fine department store catalog, probably in his late forties. The other man in the booth is pale and slender; his hair is long and shaggy, his face is hidden behind a short neatly trimmed beard and round purple sun glasses. All Adam can see of him is a black leather jacket and white dress shirt. He looks as if his cool is hanging back trying to decide if wants to inhabit him ever again but is more than undecided.

"Adam, please sit down," the woman named Olympia asks him sweetly. He sits next to her across from the two men.

"Adam, my name is Ajax Troy—I'm your uncle. I've waited a long time to meet you." He smiles at him genuinely and then looks at the other man and waits for him to speak. They all wait.

"Adam," he begins slowly, his voice almost a whisper, "I'm your father, Adam. I'm Castor Troy. Hello, son."


	9. Never Was

**A/N Face/Off is a fantastic movie written by Mike Werb and Michael Colleary and directed by John Woo. **

* * *

><p>I own absolutely nothing.<p>

Adam and Eve

Ch 9 Never Was

Adam stares dumb-founded at the two men across the table from him.

"Say something, Adam..." Castor says slowly.

"I...I don't even know where to start...how is this possible?"

"You know it's a long story. I need help telling it," Castor manages to get out. Already he looks exhausted.

"What happened to you? What's wrong with your voice?"

"An operation gone wrong," Ajax tells him softly. "I understand you went to see your aunt Talia recently..."

Adam bristles immediately. "And how exactly would you know that? You leave my aunt Talia alone," he begins angrily.

"Adam, we don't want to hurt you or anybody else, please understand that first and foremost," Ajax implores him. "I know you went to see her because I had you followed. I assume she told you something of your background?"

"Look, if you're trying to make me feel better about all of this you're doing a lousy job. What, next you're gonna tell me you tapped her house, right?"

"No. I only had you followed, Adam. We've all been worried about you and especially after Sean died. Surely you can understand..."

"No, I fucking don't."

"Just calm down, please. Did your aunt tell you about the switch? It's common knowledge to us, of course. We know Sean told her everything. We're just trying to find out how much you know—or think you know," Ajax tells him calmly.

"Yeah, she told me about the switch."

"Well, part of that switch involved an operation to your father's larynx—it was botched and that's why he speaks as he does," explains Ajax.

"Who's your friend?" asks Castor as he points to the young man across the diner.

"My buddy. He rode shotgun," Adam says simply.

"That's a good friend. You should call him over...intro...intro..." Castor begins a painful coughing fit.

"Don't say anymore, Cas...here, drink some water..."

Adam is struck by the paternal nature of the two brothers' relationship. Although he is put off by the whole situation he can clearly see that there is much love between them. But he knows nothing of Ajax or Olympia, his aunt Talia said nothing of them—wouldn't she have known about them? His mind is racing and full of questions but he holds his tongue.

"Adam, bring your friend over and let him know you're alright," suggests Olympia.

"Am I alright?" he asks her warily.

"Yes, you are," she assures him.

Adam rises from the table and goes to Jace.

"Jace man, it's cool—that's my father and his brother and sister."

"Get the fuck outta here..." Jace says, mirroring Adam's shock.

"So they say. Look man, go on home..." Adam looks back over at the table and sees Ajax motion them both over. "Fuck...they want me to bring you over to meet them."

"I can do that."

"Look Jace..."

"You don't have to say it—I'll never tell a soul. C'mon, dude—it'll be alright."

They head over to the table. Ajax rises to meet them.

"Hello, young man—you are?"

"Jace Cutter, sir."

"That you are even here this evening tells me quite a lot about you. Please meet Adam's father, Mr. Troy..."

"Hello, Mr. Troy."

Castor nods at him which is all he's able to do at the moment.

"And this is our sister, Miss Christopoulus."

"Hello, ma'am."

"Hello, Jace. Thank you for being such a fine friend to my nephew," she smiles at him.

"Adam, I know this is a lot to take in..." he hands him a small sheet of paper, "that's our address and directions. I would like you to come see us tomorrow. Even though I'm sure you both know to keep this strictly between yourselves, I want you and your friend here to know you have nothing to fear from us, do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Let's all step outside to say our goodbye's, shall we?" Ajax helps Castor up and out of the booth and out of the diner as they all leave.

Once outside in the parking lot Castor takes a good long look at his son and silently weeps.

"You look so much like Pollux..." he manages to say. "I love you son." Olympia takes Castor over then and escorts him to their limo.

"Adam, there's so much to tell you. Please come tomorrow, will you?" Ajax asks him in earnest.

Adam finds that his heart is almost too full for words, his brain on major overload. He doesn't know if he wants to run to the limousine where his father has just disappeared in to, get in his friends car and go screeching away from them all forever or put a bullet in his brain to just make all of the madness stop. He comes back to himself and finds Ajax and Jace looking at him with the same level of genuine concern.

"Yes, I'll be there tomorrow," he says finally. Ajax smiles and pats him on the back reassuringly then takes his leave reluctantly. Adam and Jace watch their sleek limo disappear into the night.

"God damn, dude," Jace says as he shakes his head in total disbelief.

Adam only stares into the distance, seeing everything that never was and finds that he's more afraid than ever of what could be.


	10. Our House

**A/N Face/Off is a fantastic movie written by Mike Werb and Michael Colleary and directed by John Woo. **

* * *

><p>I own absolutely nothing.<p>

Adam and Eve

Ch 10 Our House

It was a quiet ride back to Jace's house. They slipped in quietly through the kitchen door just barely missing Mr. Cutter as he rushed out through the front door.

"He's running late," Jace chuckles as he looks in the fridge for a snack.

"It should be a crime to have to be up at this hour running late for work," Adam half whispers, afraid that Mrs. Cutter might be up and able to hear them. Jace apparently has no such worry as he ransacks the refrigerator loudly looking for something to eat.

"You're tellin' me dude. Twenty-five years on that job, man—fifteen...of his ass bein' home every day when I got home from school...just fuckin' wrong—I could _never_ get this place alone to myself..." Jace chuckles as he thinks back on his high school years. "Cock-block Central, man..." he says then as he shuts the fridge and tosses Adam some left-over fried chicken wrapped in foil.

"I'm not hungry..." Adam tells him as he grabs some paper towels for his friend.

"I get that," Jace yanks open the freezer and spies what he's looking for nestled on top of the bagged ice. "Maybe you're thirsty," he says when he slams the door shut and shows Adam a bottle of vodka.

"Yeah...that I am."

* * *

><p>Eve has been up all night and is sitting at her kitchen table waiting for dawn to break through the cold gray fog, cradling a hot cup of cognac-laced coffee. Jamie, gone to see Talia Burke, has still not returned. There has been absolutely no word to either of them from Adam.<p>

* * *

><p>As she had promised Jamie she called her contact at the FBI, which was Wanda Cho, Sean's former right hand and now the current FBI Assistant Director. That had been over six hours ago. Though the hour had been late Eve was not surprised to hear Wanda answer her desk phone. Eve stared into her cup as she thought back on their short conversation.<p>

"Eve, are you alright?" Wanda's concern was genuine.

"Wanda, I hate to disturb you," Eve began with difficulty.

"Let me just say first that I'm sorry I wasn't able to come to the house after the funeral, but I got a call..."

"Wanda, you don't have to explain to me," Eve assured her. "No, I'm fine, but I have a problem—it's about Adam." Eve heard Wanda's sharp intake of breath.

"I've been so afraid that I would get this call, someday, Eve...has someone come looking for him? Are you afraid one of Castor Troy's enemies finally..."

"Wanda, I don't really know—Adam left here yesterday—under the impression that someone is after him, yes. He left to protect us, me and Jamie—and you know about Talia Burke."

"Of course...oh my God, Eve..."

"I have no idea where he's gone, Wanda, no possible idea at all. We had a falling out..." Eve said at last, feeling as horrible as she sounded. "I know he won't come back here. And I don't know where to begin looking. Jamie's gone to talk to Talia...I'm waiting for her to get home now. I need your help."

"Eve, I'll send some agents over right away—I'll go see Talia and we'll take it from there. I know you two grew a little distant over the years—Sean told me about it before he retired," Wanda told her delicately. "Just try to stay calm, Eve. He's probably with someone he trusts, just laying low. We'll find him," she said very definitely.

"I feel awful, Wanda..." Eve said then, desperately trying to hold back tears.

"I know you do. It's not your fault, Eve. I understand completely. Two of my people will be there within the hour. Just hang tight for me, okay?"

"I'll try, Wanda. Thank you so much."

"Good girl. I'll be by after I talk to Talia for myself. See you as soon as I can."

"Goodbye Wanda." The women rang off.

Wanda's agents had indeed arrived shortly before midnight. Eve had fixed them coffee and answered their questions to the best of her ability; she was unable to tell them if he had a FaceBook or any other social networking account—Sean would surely have known—but they both assured her it could be checked out anyway. They searched Adam's room for any other possible clues and headed out with a very short list of friends and acquaintances supplied by Eve.

* * *

><p>Finally she hears the front door open. Jamie appears in the kitchen doorway then, with Wanda Cho and Talia Burke in tow.<p>

Eve rises in anger. "What the hell is she doing here?"

"Eve, please. You three women are the most important people in Adam's life. I want you to put your anger aside right now—I need you to do it and more importantly, Adam would need you to do it. We're going to find him. The three of you need each other right now," Wanda tells her sternly.

Eve looks at her daughter and see's that she is holding Talia's hand in one of her own and reaching out the other for her mother's. Before she knows it she is caught up in their embrace and shared anguish as the three women cry softly into each other, their tears flowing unchecked.

* * *

><p>"Cas, are you alright?"<p>

They are back at Ajax's Malibu Canyon compound and Olympia has just settled Castor on his bed in his room.

"I'm fine," he manages.

"Just relax yourself, if that's possible," she says soothingly as she takes off his shoes and puts an extra pillow behind his back.

Ajax stands in the doorway watching his sister fuss over him.

Castor stills his sister's busy hands with his own and gives her a look that lets her know that she can stop.

"Okay, okay, I hear you," she smiles down at him. "I'm going to put on a pot of coffee—I'm never going to get back to sleep now. Anybody want anything?"

Both of her brothers nod their "no's" at her. She gives Castor a kiss to his cheek and Ajax a pat on his broad chest as she passes him and leaves the room.

"Dr. Nauheim will be here at eight this morning, Castor," Ajax smiles at him from the doorway. "You _are_ going to get your voice back, little bro, that is a promise."

The two brothers share an easy silence. Finally Castor speaks again.

"He is something to see, isn't he?" Castor says slowly through a proud smile.

"Yes, he is. Don't strain yourself any further, Cas. You want up or down, now?"

Castor gives his brother a thumbs down to let him know he wants to lie down. Ajax goes to him then and helps him do just that.

"Get some rest. See you in a few."

Castor gives him a thumbs up as his brother leaves him.

Ajax goes to the kitchen to find Olympia just sitting down in the breakfast nook at the table with her coffee.

"Those fucking bastards," she says, her voice low and seething with anger.

"I know."

"To treat him like that, like some kind of Goddamned fucking lab rat..." she stares into her cup as she grips it tightly in her hands.

"I know, Olympia..." he is trying to keep her from working herself in to a total rage by keeping the register of his own voice calm and cool.

"Twice, Ajax! Twice! And then to release some other poor bastard's corpse to you...how can we even be sure about Sasha and Dietrich, now? Adam has to know..."

"Sasha and Dietrich are confirmed, Olympia. We will tell him everything, please try to calm down."

"They have to pay, Jax," she looks up at him then through gritted teeth, her eyes ablaze.

Something about the set of her jaw, the angry lines around her eyes, causes Ajax to flash on his father suddenly. He had only set eyes on the man once in his life, but had spent many years analyzing that picture on his bedside night table as a boy—until that night he took Castor and Pollux away. Ajax had taken the frame the next day and thrown it to the ground, then stomped upon it before he retrieved the photo through the broken glass and ripped it to shreds. He didn't need a picture to remember him by; the look on his face and the venom in his voice he witnessed that night in his mother's house was more than burned into the synapses in his brain.

It was his father's countenance he recognized in the dark rage that had visibly taken over her every facial feature. They had all inherited their father's terrible, dark rage, his capacity to lash out with awful vengeance; his lust for blood; his talent for killing. He hates to see it in her, but he truly understands. Yes, she is a Troy, alright—a worthy ally—he thinks to himself proudly.

She has risen from her chair and stands before her brother defiantly.

"They have to pay."

Ajax takes her face in his hands and gives her a kiss upon her cheek, blushing red and warm to his lips.

"They will."


	11. Prognosis

**I own absolutely nothing.**

Adam and Eve

Ch 11 Prognosis

Adam is lying comfortably on top of a sleeping bag on his buddy's floor completely unable to sleep. He knows that he needs to get some kind of rest but he is just feeling way too many emotions: dread, at the thought of taking a real step into the unknown; guilt, over running away so dramatically and the worry he has surely put Jamie and his aunt Talia through; numb from the shock of all that has happened within the few short days of Sean's death; fearful of the changes looming in his future because Castro Troy is alive—his father is alive..._his_ father...

"Man, did you get any sleep at all?" comes Jace's groggy voice from above him. "I told you to sleep in my bed, dude, I coulda took the bag..." he gives a loud yawn and and long stretch.

"No man, this was cool."

"Did you get any sleep?"

"Not a wink."

"Fuck, man," Jace rolls over and checks his phone. "It's almost eleven—you can't possibly think I'm gonna let you get behind the wheel of my car all sleep-deprived and shit."

"I'm wired for sound, man—I'm cool."

"No, dude."

"What?" Adam rises up from the floor and faces his friend with a worried look on his face. "Don't fuck with me Jace, not now..."

"Look, I know I'm not invited to the reunion, but you feel safe about going to see them, right?"

"Well, yeah..." Adam begins, confused.

"Call your uncle to come pick you up, man. I'll take you to meet him halfway—or wherever he says—and pick you up when you're ready."

"But..."

"But shit, Adam. You've had no sleep and you're totally fucked up—not a good combination when you add three thousand pounds of metal, concrete surfaces and L. A. traffic. You know I'm right. Call him, man," Jace suggests, deadly serious.

Adam knows his friend is right and retrieves his phone from his pocket without further protest.

* * *

><p>Earlier that morning Dr. Josef Nauheim had come to pay his new patient a visit. He had the results of the nasopharyngoscopy and CT scanning performed the previous week and sat in the living room of Ajax Troy, a touch nervous but relieved that he had positive prognosis for the three anxious siblings facing him across a coffee table.<p>

"Mr. Troy, have you been getting your rest? Just nod yes or no," the Doctor asked him. Castor nodded yes. "Good, very good. Here is the deal in a nutshell: it was not the removal of voice chip that damaged your vocal chords, Mr. Troy. The results of the tests we performed revealed that your larynx has suffered several mucosal tears—fractures, to be more precise; with the passage of time these lacerations on your larynx have produced scarring. I can treat this and of course it's going to require surgery. The goal is to return you to preinjury laryngeal function, which includes ventilation, phonation and protection of the lower airway. You will need to remain on your clear liquid diet and continue to rest your voice before surgery. I'd like to get you in as soon as possible. I have a phenomenal team and state of the art medical technology at my disposal—we can fix this, Mr. Troy."

"Dr. Nauheim, how did this happen?" asked Olympia then.

"Your brother's injury was most likely the result of blunt force trauma to the neck, Ms. Christopoulos. I understand why you and your brother have not told me the particulars of Castor's situation, but wherever he was it is apparent that he was abused and handled with little regard for his life. That he survived at all is a miracle."

Ajax was seething with quiet rage. Had it not been for one renegade FBI agent Castor would surely have died; while he was grateful to that agent his hate for the operatives behind Castor's top secret incarceration knew no bounds. He looked over at his brother to find him smiling broadly. Ajax smiled back at him, momentarily thrust out the murderous thoughts running rampant in his head.

"Can I possibly get you in to pre-op today, Mr. Troy?" the doctor asked Castor. Castor shook his head no vehemently.

"Dr. Nauheim, Castor has another important appointment today and that won't be possible. Tomorrow would be excellent, yes?" Ajax looked back at Castor for confirmation to which Castor nodded his head in agreement.

"Wonderful. I assure you that my team and facilities are well-suited to a patient of Mr. Troy's caliber and special need of the utmost in privacy and confidentiality," Dr. Nauheim reminded him delicately.

"Thank you, doctor. What time do you want us in?"

"Eight a. m. would be fine."

"Then eight a. m. it will be. Olympia will escort you out."

When Olympia returned to the room she went to Castor and gave him a warm hug. "You're going to get your voice back, big brother," she said excitedly as she gave him a squeeze.

Castor tapped at his heart in his chest twice.

"We haven't heard from him yet," she said of Adam, which was what the gesture had come to mean since the night before. "But we need to get yo back to bed now. If he doesn't call us soon then we'll call him, alright?"

Castor nodded. Olympia and Ajax then helped him to bed. After they got him settled they both returned to the living room.

"Ajax, this is fantastic."

"Yes, it is," he replied to his sister, equally excited.

"How long should we give Adam?"

"At least until noon. That gives Castor some time to rest up and be ready. If we don't hear from him by then we'll call him."

At eleven fifteen the call came.

"Hello, uncle Ajax."

"Adam! Where are you?"

"Still at my friend's house. Look, I've been up all night—Jace knows this is a private gig, but he won't let me drive...he wants to drive me to at least meet you halfway if you'll send someone to pick me up."

"He is a very good friend, Adam. Definitely. Do you know where Gladstones is in Malibu?"

"Yeah, on PCH, right?"

"Yes. A car will be waiting for you in the parking lot."

"Okay, thanks. We're leaving in twenty minutes—we should be there by one o' clock if not sooner."

"That sounds about right, with traffic and what not. Just drive safely and we'll see you soon." They rang off.

* * *

><p>Back at Jace's house the two young men have cleaned themselves up and are preparing to leave.<p>

"Hey Jace?"

"Yeah?"

"Let's pass by Eve's house on the way."

"Why?"

"I don't know—I want to see if Jamie is still there."

"How will you know?"

"If her rental car is still in the driveway. I don't know, I want to let her know that I'm alright."

"We can do that."

"Cool."

When they drive down the block everything seems normal until they get to Eve's house. Adam recognizes immediately the contingent of agents present by their black government SUV's parked along both sides of the street.

"Fuck me," Adam says under his breath. "The FBI is here."

"Damn dude—all of that for you?"

"I guess."

"Do you see Jamie's rental?"

"Yeah—fuck!"

"What?"

"Just keep going..."

"What, dude?"

"My aunt Talia is here, too—I saw her car in the driveway. How the hell did that happen? Shit, so much for calling anybody, right now," he tells his friend with a faraway look on his face.

* * *

><p>"Well, man, there's the car..." Jace says as they pull into the lot of the restaurant and points to the sleek black limo that they both recognize from the night before.<p>

"This is really happening?"

"Yep, now get the fuck out," his buddy smiles at him. "I hope it all goes well, man. Call me when you need me to come pick you up."

"Jace, I can't thank you enough, man. I..."

"I know. Ditto. Go see your family, Adam. Tell 'em all I said hi."

"I will. I don't know him real well yet, but I can tell my uncle Ajax likes you a lot."

"Cool. See ya when I see ya."

"Later, man."

Adam exits his friend's car and heads for the limo, his eager steps belying the trepidation he thinks that he should be feeling. The driver of the car exits the vehicle to open the door fir him. He gives Jace a final wave goodbye before he disappears behind the closed door and dark windows. Jace pulls out first so that it is apparent to whoever else is in the car that he is indeed leaving the area and heads back east on Pacific Coast Highway.


	12. Homecoming

**A/N Face/Off is a fantastic movie written by Mike Werb and Michael Colleary and directed by John Woo. **

* * *

><p>I own absolutely nothing.<p>

Adam and Eve

Ch 12 Homecoming

When Adam gets in the back seat of the limo he is relieved to find that no one is there; he appreciates that wherever he is on his way to he has the time alone to take it in and further prepare himself mentally, unscrutinized and undistracted. He purposely doesn't pay attention to street signs, only the scenery, as the limo progresses through a winding canyon road. It passes a a market done up like an old-time general store at the bottom of the canyon then intermittent clusters of mail boxes that festoon the the road for seemingly no good reason. Adam's untrained eyes do not notice the hidden drives at first that lead up roads to the canyon homes invisible from the main drag that the boxes belong to, but as the limo climbs higher up he begins to notice a pattern and discerns that some of the impossible-looking offshoots are indeed pathways to the privileged hillside-dwellers nestled high up above the road. He wonders how even the residents find their own homes, especially at night, as he notes no tangible evidence of street lights of any kind.

Ten minutes later the limo makes what seems like an impossible left turn and heads up a narrow road and travels slowly another five minutes or so before a modern tri-level house comes into view; it is all white concrete, windows and light; geometric and clean; spacious-looking but economical in proportion. The limo pulls into a circular drive and stops under a concrete carport. Adam sees Olympia and Ajax waiting for him and he bounds out of the car before the driver can open the door for him. His feet carry him to the two smiling at him and before he knows it he is caught up in the warmth of a loving group hug. Finally the three part.

"Where is my father?" Adam asks them then, as a single tear streams down his cheek.

* * *

><p>Castor is sitting up comfortably on a couch in the den attached to his bedroom. When Olympia and Ajax appear with Adam he rises and goes to his son; he takes Adam's face into his hands and grins crazily; he sees Pollux and he sees Sasha and begins to weep with joy; he hugs Adam to him and finds it impossible to let go.<p>

Adam returns his hug with a mighty one of his own and lets himself get lost in his father's embrace; from the doorway he can hear Olympia crying audibly and Ajax talking to her soothingly as he comforts her. Father and son reluctantly let each other go. Castor motions Adam to sit on the couch as Olympia and Ajax come in to take their seats, as well. Castor finds that he cannot stop smiling and beats at his head with his fist in consternation.

"He's so happy that he's crazy with joy, Adam," Olympia explains as she tries to catch her breath between tears and little hiccups.

Castor reaches for a letter on the coffee table then and hands it to Adam, motioning for him to read it; he puts his hand to his mouth and motions outward.

"You want me to read it out loud?" asks Adam.

Castor nods yes.

"Okay." Adam began to read.

"_My son, my dearest Adam:_

_Did you feel me last night the way that I felt you? I couldn't sleep, son. I had everything at my __disposal to make sleep happen: warm milk; a book to bore me; my dark soothing room and a cool ocean breeze; drugs. I wanted none of them. I wanted only to think of you and this moment; to play over and over in my mind seeing you at the diner last night. I was too excited for sleep, son._

_So, where do I start? I guess I start with now. I can't talk, not yet. I'm meeting a doctor in the morning and he's going to tell me if I'll ever get my voice back. By the time I see you again I'll know something definitely, one way or the other. Who did this to me, you wonder. The FBI, Adam. Sean Archer's people. Sean thought he killed me; I was wounded—badly—but not dead. The FBI had a medical team waiting to switch us back to ourselves. I believe Sean really thought I was dead. I know now that's what he was told. But I wasn't, Adam. I was being kept alive—they said for research—I say for torture. I'm only now beginning to unravel the pieces of what was done to me while I was in a coma. They hurt me, Adam. I know I'm a criminal; I know I've hurt innocents—let's be clear about that. I am not a good man; I am not a good person." _Adam looked up at his father and shook his head at him in disbelief.

"No, dad..."

Castor, squeezed his eyes shut and tapped the page of the letter.

"_This whole thing with Archer started because I killed his little boy. I killed a little boy, Adam. He was about the age you were when Archer took you in. He was an innocent. It was an accident. But how do you tell a father that his son lying dead on the ground was just an accident? Especially a man like Sean Archer? The two of us had already been involved in a deadly game of cat an mouse for years, Adam. I didn't mean to kill the boy, but at the time—and I'll be brutally honest—I didn't care. It was unfortunate, I remember thinking as I saw Sean crawling desperately towards his son, but it wasn't personal. Does that give you any insight to the kind of man I was then, son? Just the tip of the iceberg, I assure you._

_I've been told that you know your aunt Talia. Surely she has given you a little history on your mother's side of the family. I'm not going to go into the total horror that was your uncle Pollux' and my upbringing, except to say that my father was a monster. It is not an excuse for my behavior, just a fact. Your uncle Ajax can tell you more about that—it hurts me too much to go into it. Yes, I'm a criminal and a monster, too. But I had something in me that my father did not—a capacity to love and love fiercely. I loved your mother, Adam, from the day I first saw her when I was twelve years old. _

_I've done so many horrible things, Adam. I killed Dietrich. We were in an impossible situation that night the feds stormed his place; the night I found out about you for the first time. I knew Dietrich would kill himself before he ever went back to jail; just like I knew before it was all over we would all be dead, anyway. I shot my best friend, Adam. Your mother's brother. Because I loved him. I know that sounds totally fucked-up and crazy but it's true. As I sit here and write this even I am aware that it all sounds like complete bullshit. But you haven't walked in my shoes, son. And I don't ever want you to. You may never understand any of this; you may never forgive me. I don't care as long as it keeps you from walking in anything that even remotely resembles my footsteps._

_Having said that, I'm not making any excuses or apologies for the things I did that led Sean Archer to hunt me down. But I do regret that I killed his son. It wasn't until that moment, when it became so understandably personal for him, that he vowed to kill me. I honored that about him, actually. Under other circumstances I could have seen us being friends; under the dynamics of our relationship at the time I could have seen us being respectful adversaries. At least, had I not I killed his boy. That's why I'm not so torn up about the fact that he was a big enough man to take you in and raise you as his own. I don't have any mixed feelings about that. I'm sorry that we didn't both just end up as old retired gunslingers telling stories to our grandchildren who would just chalk our impossible yarns up to being bullshit fish tales or Alzheimer's disease. That was probably just a highly unlikely and wishful thinking, but it would have been nice, anyway._

_Somehow, son, I'm still here. I know very well what hand I've played in all of our fates and my other apology is to you. But your mother was phenomenal, a lioness—she had ambition for us all and __especially for you. She not only protected you from my enemies, Adam; she protected you from me, as long as she could. My final apology is to her because I should have done better by her. I led Sean Archer to her door, I signed that death warrant. And because I did it cost me Pollux and Dietrich, as well. I had to tell you that, Adam. _

_Am I the man I was twenty years ago? No. But I'm still bad news, son. I don't want the same things I wanted then, but I do want revenge on the fuckers who tortured me. Wrong or right, I do. And I will have it. I will either survive that ambition or I won't. But I don't want it to touch you. You are the only thing in this world that I've ever done right. And I want to do right by you now. Even if it means enjoying this reunion today and never seeing you again. I hope that you understand even if you are never able to find it in your heart to forgive. I know there's a special place in hell for me, I've always known it. But that's not what I want for you and I'll understand if you make your own decision to walk away from all of this. To say that I love you doesn't begin to describe all that I feel for you, but I'll say it anyway: I love you, son."_

As Adam reads the last four words he hears his father's afflicted voice struggle to utter them to him at the same time. He looks at his father then, long and hard, and realizes something has indeed changed in him, but it is not the love he feels for the man sitting opposite him. He says nothing as he puts the letter down and moves closer to his father, then hugs him tightly. He doesn't tell his father about the dark impulses he's always felt lurking in his soul waiting to manifest in some form or another; he doesn't tell him that he shares his ambition and desire for revenge; he doesn't tell him that he's glad to finally have some real insight into his own self and that he no longer fears the unknown—about the world and especially about himself. He doesn't tell him because he knows it will hurt and disappoint him as surely as it will make him proud and so decides to spare him that particular agony until he's strong enough to take it. He knows that they will triumph together because this man is Castor Troy, targeted by the best of the best and still alive; he vows that this man will live to tell fish tales to his grandchildren, because he is his father; and because he loves him.


	13. Of Sons And Sunsets

**A/N Face/Off is a fantastic movie written by Mike Werb and Michael Colleary and directed by John Woo. **

* * *

><p>I own absolutely nothing.<p>

Adam and Eve

Ch 13 Of Sons and Sunsets

Even though it is Adam who read the letter the emotional toll it has taken on Castor is apparent.

"Dad, I love you. Dad...I can't tell you how happy it makes me to call you that...to be here with you. I'm in shock and you're exhausted. He needs to get some more rest, doesn't he?" Adam turns to his aunt and uncle then.

"Yes, baby, he does," Olympia answers him softly.

"Let's get him to bed, then."

After the three of them get Castor settled in his bed they leave him, happy but ready to close his eyes and lose himself in the sleep he was unable to find respite in the night before. Olympia and Ajax lead Adam to the breakfast nook in the kitchen.

"Sit down, honey," says Olympia as she holds out a chair for him. Ajax goes to a cupboard and comes back with three glasses and a bottle of vodka. He takes a seat opposite his nephew, smiling proudly as he pours them all a drink.

"I'm sure you could use this," Ajax says as he slides a glass to Olympia and then Adam.

Adam has only one word for them both.

"Who?"

"We have a list of names, on that you can depend. There was an agent who tipped us off, Adam—he went renegade and then into hiding. It's because of him that we have Castor back. The FBI released a body to a liaison who was representing me, a year after the fiasco at the docks. I had long buried Dietrich and your mother; when I received what I thought was my brother's body it was only months before my own mother passed."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, uncle Ajax."

"Thank you, son. She was a wonderful woman—she tried to keep Castor and Pollux when they ran away from our father, but she had absolutely no rights and to say that he was a total bastard is the understatement of the century." Adam could see Olympia nodding her head in agreement from the corner of his eye. "Yes, she would have loved you, like she loved all of us. That's a story for another day. At any rate, you can imagine our outrage when we learned the truth, and our horror when we got him back. His doctor was here this morning—he needs surgery but we've been assured that his voice can be restored. While he was in a coma his muscles began to atrophy, but we got him in time. He's coming back slowly, Adam, but he's coming back."

"How did you..."

"It was a rescue, better planned and executed than any military campaign you've ever heard of. The feds still don't know of my connection to him and I plan to keep it that way. Castor is back on their Most Wanted list, but not one you'll ever see posted in a post office or on their web site."

"I had Jace take me by Eve's house before we came out—don't worry—Eve never knew anything about Jace—the house was crawling with agents but nobody saw us."

"Did Sean know about Jace?"

"Well, yes," Adam says uncomfortably. "But Sean was retired by then; Jace was our secret because Eve was growing distant and fearful of me. Sean allowed me my own separate life without interference from her."

"And I give him a lot of credit for that, Adam. But..."

"No buts, uncle Ajax—Jace is my best friend in this world—he helped me to make this happen—he would never..."

"Adam, I like Jace. The only way to save his life now is to bring him in to the fold. It's the only way we can be sure that he's truly with us. Otherwise, and I hate to say, he's a liability." Ajax let that fact sink in as he took a stiff slug from his glass and sat silently looking off into the distance.

Olympia took Adam's hand into her own and squeezed it. "We're not saying he has to become a hit man or anything, Adam; we're not trying to commit either of you to a life of crime. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I do, and if that's the case then I need to call him now and get him here. I could never forgive myself if anything bad happened to him."

"Okay, just calm down. You'll call him from a secure line and tell him to come pick you up at Gladstones; you'll tell him what you need to tell him in person and if everything goes as we hope the two of you will be living here with us. Just two college-aged young men gone off to live their lives like young men do."

"His parents..."

"If we engineer this the way we hope to there won't be any danger to them," Ajax reassures him.

Adam's head is swimming and he finishes off his own drink. "So, these fucks who tortured my dad...when do we go for them?" he asks then. Olympia squeezes his hand again as Ajax smiles.

"We have a plan, son. But first it's all about Castor getting well. He goes into surgery in the morning; there will be a period of recovery and more physical therapy until he's even remotely back to his old self. Once he is we'll take it from there. Adam, we didn't know how you were going to take all of this; you're not expected or obligated to be a part of any of this. When I first set out to connect with you it was simply to make myself known and to let you know how much you have always been loved; to let you know that we—Olympia and I—existed. But when we got Castor back it turned into something else completely. He doesn't want this for you, he really doesn't," Ajax tells him quietly.

"I got that. But I'm in." Adam tells them simply.

"Honey, you look like you could use some sleep, yourself—we've got a room all ready for you...don't you want to lie down for a bit?" Olympia asks him with worry written all over her face.

"No. I need to call Jace."

"Alright, that's understandable, son. Come with me...there's a secure line in the library, you can call him from there," Ajax says as he rises from the table.

* * *

><p>The evening sun threatens to kiss the very mountains as it makes its graceful descent over the Pacific coastline while Adam looks upon it with new eyes. It seems as if all of his emotions and sensory perceptions are heightened and he appreciates the sunset like he's never appreciated any sunset before it. He sees Jace roll into the parking lot and exits his limousine.<p>

"Park the car, dude," he says as Jace stops and lowers his window.

"What's up, man?"

"Serious shit. Park over there," Adam points to any empty spot way down the way from the limo. As Jace is parking Adam heads his way. When he gets to the car Jace sees that Adam has full bottle of unopened Patron in his hand.

"Let's hit the beach, man—I've got some major shit to lay on you—we can talk privately," Adam tells him as he leads the way. They make their way carefully down the sandy slope and find a couple of suitable rocks to sit on. As the crashing waves perform their ceaseless dance with shore Adam quietly tells his best friend how his life has changed in the last six hours, honestly and without any room for misinterpretation.

The two young men talk long after the sun sets. Finally they head back to the parking lot where Ajax sits in the limousine, waiting patiently for their return. Never one to sit idly by and let precious time go to waste, Ajax has been on the phone taking reports from his own operatives casing both Eve Archer's house and that of Jace's parents; only the Assistant Director, Wanda Cho was there now; Adam's aunt Talia Burke had left hours before; he also learned that Jamie Archer had canceled her flight back to Chicago and had not yet booked a new one. At Jace's house all was quiet; Mr. Cutter was happily attached to his bong out in his garage and Mrs. Cutter was in their bedroom watching television. There had been no activity whatsoever at the Cutter house involving the FBI. Yet. Ajax hoped that would remain the case.

As the two young men approach the limo neither of their faces give away a thing. Ajax opens the door to admit them both in and they disappear behind the dark glass. Moments later Jace exits the limo and heads back to his own car. He walks briskly but not with fear; a very certain calm has washed over him and he knows he's made the only decision he could possibly make for himself: the right one.


	14. Saving Lives

**A/N Face/Off is a fantastic movie written by Mike Werb and Michael Colleary and directed by John Woo. **

* * *

><p>I own absolutely nothing.<p>

Adam and Eve

Ch 14 Saving Lives

"NYU?"

"Yeah, mom," Jace smiles broadly at his mother as she reads his acceptance letter and looks over his financial aid documents.

"I didn't even know you applied there, honey. I thought you wanted to go to UC Santa Cruz..."

"It's the Tisch School of the Arts, mom. It was a grind but I got through the whole process; I submitted my short film—you know the stuff I did for granddad's funeral?"

"Yes?"

"Well, I worked on it and made a really great piece out of it—they liked it, mom. I got in. I'm in!"

"When did you do all of this?" she asked him, still in shock.

"Hey mom, I do more that sit up here smoking weed all day."

"I see that. Honey, I'm really proud of you. There's so much to do! We have to drive you up and get you settled—we have to have a party for you—send you off right! Oh, my God, Jace, this is so wonderful for you!" his mother started to squeal excitedly.

"Uh, mom, calm down a little," he begins awkwardly.

"What?"

"There's three of us that are going together..."

"Who?"

"You don't know them—I hooked up with them over this past year and, well, we've got big plans. We're gonna be better than the Cohen Brothers, Quentin Tarantino and Lawrence Kasdan combined!"

"Okay, I've heard of Tarantino and Kasdan..."

"We're driving up in a couple of weeks...Jeremy's got this cool aunt—she's an artist—that lives in the East Village—she's gonna rent rooms to us...I'm so fuckin' jazzed!"

"Who's Jeremy?"

"You don't know him, mom. He's from New York but came here with his mom when his parents divorced."

"Jace, I'm blown away, baby. Your dad is going to absolutely freak..." she smiled at her son. "Come here—I'm so proud of you." Jeanette Cutter gave her strapping son a huge hug and then a long hard look as she holds him at arms length. A single tear streams down her cheek. "You're not a baby anymore...how did this happen so fast?"

The weight of Jace's lies bear down heavily upon him as he struggles not to cry, himself, but he takes comfort in knowing that his lie will save his parents lives.

"Okay, okay, I'll stop. Can I help you pack, honey?" his mom asks as she tries to pull herself together.

"Sure, mom, I would love that."

* * *

><p>"You okay, man?"<p>

"I'm cool, Adam. I wish all of that crap was true," Jace tells his buddy as they sit in the heart of Ajax Troy's Malibu home where Olympia Christopoulus is singing over the dinner she is preparing for them all.

"Welcome to the fold, Jace," Ajax smiles at the young man as he shoots him a shot of vodka across the table.

Jace takes his shot and looks out of the bay window of the breakfast nook, still amazed at the turn his life has taken.

"Jace, those lies you told your mother can become the truth, son. When I collected my sister..."

"I was a stripper in a nightclub," said Olympia as she turned away from her skillet of sauteed peppers. "My brother saved me and sent me to college; he takes care of my mother—he takes care of all of us and made it possible for us to be able to take care of ourselves. He wants the same for you. Both. Jace, if you want to be a filmmaker and you want your NYU story to be a reality, submit your piece and see what happens. If they accept you we'll make the rest the happen. Whatever you want to do, wherever you want to go—just name it."

"Right now I appreciate just hanging while we find out how Mr. Troy is going to be. Thank you so much, sir...Miss Christopoulus..."

"You don't have to be so formal son. You're family now...uncle Ajax and aunt Olympia," Ajax pours them all another shot and raises his glass as Olympia come to join them. "Stin Ygia mas!"

"It means 'to our health'..." Olympia tells the two young men. "Stin Ygia mas!"

"Stin Ygia mas!" Adam and Jace say in unison.

"When is dad coming home, uncle Ajax?" asks Adam then.

"The doctor wants to keep him for four months, Adam. He must undergo rehab under the proper conditions, on both his larynx and his extremities. He'll be sent home then with a private therapist who will teach us all how to assist him. The doctor assured me that we will have our Cas back in prime condition in four to six months after his release from hospital."

"And when he's well...when do we..."

"Adam, calm down. First thing's first, correct? I still want you to think long and hard. When I am sure that you can keep your head I will go over the particulars with you both; there are many players in this game and many of them are close to Eve Archer. I hate to tell you this, Adam, but because she was present they had her sign off on Castor's phony death certificate," Ajax informed him delicately.

"Are you telling me that she knew the truth and kept it from Sean?"

"I haven't been able to confirm that just yet, Adam. The FBI are some very conniving bastards; it would have been easy for them to slip Cas a drug that would have made him appear to be dead. I hope, for her sake, that she was not a part of the ruse. You understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes, but it would explain a lot," Adam says as he glares into his shot glass.

"No, Adam, don't jump to conclusions—I'm working on confirmation."

Jace and Olympia look at each other sadly before Olympia returns quietly the stove. Jace has no words for his friend and just gives him a pat of solidarity upon his shoulder.

"Come now, on to better thoughts, boys...after dinner we go to visit Castor—Olympia's païdakia and gigandes plaki are to die for...the woman should win awards," Ajax smiles at her over his shoulder.

* * *

><p>Amazingly, the four months pass quickly and when Castor finally comes back is voice is restored and his gait is stronger and more confident. His hair is still longish but is cut shorter than when Adam first met him; he has grown a distinctive salt and pepper mustache and a neat trimmed beard. He looks suave and healthy in a new black suit and crisp white shirt, missing a tie and unbuttoned tastefully; he strides through the front door beside Dr. Nauheim looking like a totally new man.<p>

"Family!" beams Dr. Nauheim, "Mr. Troy is a medical miracle! Never have I seen anyone progress as rapidly as our Castor!"

"Thank you Doctor, I owe it all to you—and my family who never missed a day coming to see me—all of you come here," Castor orders them with outstretched arms. He hugs them all to him. Jace stands very nearby watching the happy family reunion and thinks of his mother. Castor grabs him and pulls him into the group hug. "I said all of you, son..." After some time they all break away from each other.

"Very good, then. Castor, you have your instructions; I understand that your brother has outfitted a gym here with all of the special equipment you need—you know what do do—twice a day. I'm happy to tell you all that Castor is in control of his own therapy regimen, but should you need any help at all do not hesitate to call me."

"Thank you, Dr. Nauheim," Castor says as he shakes the doctor's hand.

"More than my pleasure. Call upon me anytime." Dr. Nauheim takes his leave.

"Well, family...huh? Right?" Castor takes Olympia in his arms and does a mad, happy waltz with her around the living room and then dips her dramatically. "I've been waiting forever to be able to do that again," he says to her before he rights her to standing. Olympia is crying with joy. Castor kisses her hand and then walks over to his brother, takes Ajax' face into both of his hands and kisses him on both cheeks. "Thank you, big bro...thank you..." he breaks down and begins to cry uncontrollably. Ajax gives him a mighty hug.

"Come on Castor, we are all overwhelmed with joy. Come lie down for a bit, rest yourself..." says Ajax as he makes to lead Castor away.

"No, no, I'm good," Castor wipes away his tears furiously. "I am good! I'm alright—I know I seem a little crazy right now, but..." he does a two-step over to Adam and Jace and then grabs both of them into his embrace, "I'm ready...ready for the big ride, baby..." he sings at them. "Come on, boys—walk with me, talk with me..." he says as he turns with them, his cool swagger back and in serious effect. He puts an arm around each of them. "Let's go see my new tricked-out gym and talk some things over. Ajax, Olympia...let us discuss," he says as he gives them a nod and leads them all away.


	15. A Hunting We Will Go

****A/N Face/Off is a fantastic movie written by Mike Werb and Michael Colleary and directed by John Woo. ****

* * *

><p>I own absolutely nothing.<p>

Adam and Eve

Ch 15 A-Hunting We Will Go

In Chicago, Jamie Archer is wrapping up a bland dinner date.

"Come on, Jamie , where are you? I see you sitting across the table but I think you're just a figment of my imagination," says the irritated man as he looks at the dinner bill. He is a lawyer in his early forties that she met at her job months before her father passed; after his thousandth invite she finally said yes to dinner. She looks pointedly at him then and thinks to herself, _"I coulda had a V-8..."_

"I'm sorry, Alex, this is all my fault—I said yes to you when I should have really run screaming away...I'll take that..." she takes the bill from him, looks at it and puts two C-notes in it as she waves to the waitress; it is one of her favorite restaurants and she's heard that the counselor has a horrid reputation for not only not leaving tips, but lifting them, as well.

"Thanks, Victoria, everything was lovely," she says to her waitress, who is also familiar with her date; she eyes her tip and gives a very appreciative nod.

"Thank you, Ms. Archer. Have a great evening."

"I'm out, Alex."

"Now, wait a minute..." he begins angrily.

"I like this place and want to come back again," she says as she rises and puts on her jacket.

"Jamie , what the hell?"

"I don't like you, Alex, and you don't really like me. I'm not interested in a dead bang tonight—I'm sure you aren't, either. I'm going home."

"You little bitch..."

"Thank you—I accept your compliment. Good night."

Jamie leaves him and the restaurant quickly as she disappears around a corner to hail a cab. Within minutes she is home and on the phone to her mother.

"Hello? Jamie..." comes her mother's ever-worried voice. Ever since Adam had disappeared Eve was a bundle of frayed nerves. "Have you heard something?"

"No, mom, I just wanted to hear your voice. Are you alright?"

"No, Jamie , I don't think I'll ever be alright. It's been almost five months now...I think I'm losing my mind."

"Mom, why don't you come here and visit me for a while? I'd love to have you..."

"And what am I going to do with myself in Chicago, Jamie? With you at work all day—what would I do with myself?"

"I can take some time off, mom..."

"No, I appreciate the offer..."

"You're sitting around chained to your phone waiting on a call from Wanda, aren't you? You've got to stop, mom. If I know Adam not hearing from him probably means that he's fine; if it was anything else I'm positive that we'd know it by now. I'm not going to worry until I have something to worry about—I suggest you do the same."

"That's easy for you to say...you didn't fall out with him; you didn't shut him out and turn him away from you..." Eve says frantically. Jamie 's heart goes out to her mom as she realizes that Eve's guilt is eating her alive.

"Mom, I'm going to take some time off—I can afford to and I need it—if you won't come here then I'm coming to see you—end of story."

"No, Jamie , I'll be alright..."

"Mom, you haven't been alright for almost five months—you're getting worse. I'm coming home...expect me by the end of the week."

"Jamie ..."

"I love you, mom. I'll see you soon."

"Jamie ..." Eve cries into the phone, "I love you, honey." Jamie gives her a kiss through the phone and hangs up with a heavy heart. She places a call next that she's made at least once a week since her father's funeral.

"Hello..."

"Hello, Talia?"

"Jamie, honey! How are you, baby?"

"I'm hanging...how are you?"

"The same."

"I'll be home by the end of the week—mom is falling apart..."

"Oh baby, I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do?"

"Yes...can you give me a hug when I see you?"

"Oh baby, never ask me for that."

The two women talk long into the night and when Jamie hangs up she feels a little better. She has to believe her own words; she has to believe that Adam is alright. He just has to be.

* * *

><p>"Big bro, you have certainly outdone yourself...this room is inspiring..." Castor says as he takes in the well-appointed gym. "I'm sorry I said no to the therapist they wanted to send home with me...a hot little red-head with hands like a sumo wrestler and a rack just made for..." Castor catches himself as he looks over at his sister with a wry smile. "I'm sorry, sis, no disrespect..."<p>

"Shall I put in the call?" she smiles devilishly back at him.

Castor looks at the other men in the room and lets out a crazy hoot of delight. "Is she cool or what?"

Ajax smiles and nods in agreement; Jace blushes for a completely different reason and tries to check himself; Adam laughs out loud.

"Form a circle family and try this," Castor says as he drops to the floor on his knees and then sits, lotus-style. "Ohm..." he chants as he assumes the traditional pose with his feet together and his hands resting palm-out atop his knees. "Come on everybody, this shit is the truth...take a deep breath...let it out...good," he instructs them through closed eyes. "Ajax, tell me about the agent..."

"Arturo Barranca...found dead three weeks ago in a Brazilian favela—shot execution-style."

"That poor, brave bastard. They're gonna pay for that. The doctors..."

"Four specialists: Jason Pressman, retired and now living in Florida; April Blansky, still in active service in Washington, D.C.; Andrew Boseman, transferred his private practice from Virginia to Beverly Hills, California five years ago," Ajax turns to Adam, who has a look of shocked recognition on his face, "frequent dinner guest of Eve and the late Sean Archer; Sandrine Ricard Plenier, retired and living in her ancestral home in Marseille, France."

"Wanda Cho..."

"Now the Assistant Director in Charge."

"Good going, Wanda..." Castor gives a thumbs up, never opening his eyes or removing his hand from his knee. "The guards..." Castor asks with a snarl on his face as his voice drops in register.

"Three were assigned specifically to you: Jude Tabor, Aaron Billings and Prior Howard—all recruited from Rikers Island and, interestingly enough, all transferred to Carandiru Prison in Brazil for a second tour."

"A second tour? Were they there in '92?"

"Yes.

"Interesting."

"After the prison was closed they started a business—private contractors for various local drug traffickers."

"Of course—good thing I love traveling. Well..." he says as he opens his eyes, "everybody make sure that your passports are updated—Ajax, you and I will take Brazil; get some men together for the doctors; we'll save Wanda for last. I need to talk to Adam now," he says as he looks at his son. The others get up and leave them. When they are gone Castor's tone turns dead serious. He gets up and moves closer to his son who sits across from him, then sits on his knees. Adam does the same.

"Adam, I appreciate how you feel, son. I don't want this for you, or for Jace."

"Just this once, dad, then I promise to go all boring and conventional: college, a mortgage, baseball and apple pie; a wife and 2.3 kids..."

"Well, shit, son—I don't want that for you, either." Both men laugh. "Seriously, Adam, once you feed the beast nothing less than raw meat will ever satisfy, do you hear what I'm saying? There's a happy medium between my life and the one I really want you to live for yourself; but if you step on this path you're going to find that there's no going back."

"There's nothing to go back to, dad; the only way I know is forward."

"That means no Talia—your mother meant for her to be untouched by this life and I intend to honor that."

"As do I."

"It means no Jamie —she was a very special girl and I know she was good to you."

"She's a very special woman now. I understand, dad."

Castor hangs his head, then looks up and deep into his son's eyes. Adam is so focused on the love he sees there that he doesn't even see Castor's hand come in for a hard slap to his face.

"I don't how it is that a man can be so proud and so heart-broken at the same time, son," Castor says through tears in his eyes and a crazy grin on his face as he grabs Adam into his embrace and hugs him with all of his might. "Regardless of what happens, Adam, always remember that you made this choice—you must always take responsibility for your actions and know that disaster will forever loom around every corner," Castor tells him softly in his ear.

"I get it, dad," Adam says, bawling like a baby.

"Alright then, we're on. Brazil is too dangerous for a rookie—you can work with the crew handling the doctors or Wanda Cho—your choice."

"I want the doctors _and_ Wanda Cho," Adam says very definitely as he wipes his tears away.

"Well, hot damn!" Castor says as he releases his son and rises from the floor then pulls Adam up with him. "Let me buy you a drink, son," Castor goes to the house phone on the wall by the door. "I feel like a party, Ajax—what's good around here?"

"Around here? Nothing. But I know a perfect spot in Vegas—ultra private—lots of redheads with nice racks and sumo grips...and everything else your heart could desire—all Playboy Bunny-bound," Ajax assures him.

"Oh-fucking-yeah...fire up the jet..." Castor hangs up the phone, laughing wildly. "Shh," he puts his finger to his lips as he turns quietly back to his son, "be berry, berry quite—I'm hunting wabbits..." he says doing an excellent Elmer Fudd. "Oww!" he screams out joyfully; he dances towards the door as his confused and amused son follows.


	16. Tickets To The E Rides

**A/N Face/Off is a fantastic movie written by Mike Werb and Michael Colleary and directed by John Woo. **

* * *

><p>I own absolutely nothing.<p>

Adam and Eve

Ch 16 Tickets To The "E" Rides

"Good lord, I forgot just how huge this city is," says Castor looking out of the window of their private jet to the city below as they come in for landing. "I haven't been here in, what? Thirty years, I think...a little date Pollux and I had worked out involving the Stock Exchange..."

"And how did that go?" asks Ajax who is sitting across from him with an intrigued smile.

"Smashingly well, if I must say so myself..." Castor momentarily loses himself in the memory and smiles as he thinks about his baby brother. "Where are we staying, again?"

"Fasano Hotel—you're gonna love it."

"How far from the airport?"

"About fifteen miles, but we have a chopper waiting."

"Cool."

Two flight attendants approach them. A raven-haired beauty takes an empty shot glass and hors d'oeuvres tray away from Ajax. "May I get you anything else, Mr. Troy?"

"No, thank you," he tells her firmly.

"May I get you anything else before we land, Mr. Troy?" asks the other, a lovely blonde, as she takes Castor's empty glass of scotch from the cup holder next to his arm rest.

"As a matter of fact," Castor pulls the buxom beauty into his lap, "I didn't have enough milk in my scotch—think you can help me out?" he asks her as he looks intently into her piercing blue eyes; he unties the scarf from around her neck then unbuttons the first buttons on her crisp white shirt, looks around her and winks at his brother. Ajax smiles back amusedly.

"Of course I can," she smiles at him; she unbuttons her jacket and then removes her shirt, her huge breasts swollen and in glorious bloom, framed by a black lace underbust corset.

"Oh, baby..." he murmurs after he suckles one sweet nipple, "we're coming in for a landing..." he takes one of her hands and guides it between his legs, "but I promise I'm taking off..."

* * *

><p>"Man, Adam, your dad is something else..." says Jace with a faraway look on his face as he sits next to his friend by the pool in Ajax Troy's amazingly modest back yard.<p>

"You're telling me..."

"That stripper? The Brazilian girl with the amazing green eyes—did she really..."

"Go with you back to your room last night? Yes, she did..." Adam cuts him off with a reassuring tone as he continues to stare at nothing in particular behind his dark sunglasses.

"I'm still pinching myself," Jace chuckles.

"Well, cut it out, will ya? Or go handle that shit privately," his friend jokes, bringing them both to laughter.

They had spent two glorious nights in a very private club in Las Vegas where Ajax and Castor had shown the boys the time of their young lives. Olympia had declined her invite, having chosen to stay behind and let boys be boys.

"It's not all about fun and games—I think you both know that..." Olympia says with a wink and a smile as she approaches the two sun-soaked young men. "I don't need details to explain the smiles on your faces, and I don't mean to be a killjoy—but we need to talk."

"Sure, aunt Olympia," says Jace as he sits up at attention.

"It's okay, honey—this isn't a military drill," she tells him as she notes his immediate nervousness. "Come on in the house and join me in the living room—I've got fresh-squeezed lemonade waiting for you and lunch, if you want it." She heads back to the house before them.

"What the fuck, Jace?"

"Hey, I just don't want to make anybody around here angry, that's all..."

"Are you afraid to be here, man? Are you afraid of my folks?"

"I just really don't want to be a disappointment to anyone, that's all. It's about to get serious, Adam; when your dad and uncle get back from Brazil it's gonna be on. And your aunt is sweet and all, but she seems like she can handle hers, if you know what I mean—I just want it to be clear to everyone that I don't take any of this for granted, man..."

"Jace, you're in, man—didn't our time in Vegas show you that much? They like you—they all like you or you wouldn't be here. Even I appreciate the respect you show them, but just calm the fuck down, man—okay?" Adam gives his buddy a reassuring pat on the back. "Come on..."

When they get to the living room they find Olympia just then pouring lemonade into tall, sleek crystal tumblers.

"Sit..." she orders them both with her ever-genuine warm smile. Jace feels uncomfortable being barefoot and in only his swim trunks while Adam takes his seat easily on the couch across from her not feeling anything at all about his near nakedness.

"Uh, will you excuse me just a minute? I just want to run upstairs and throw on something else..." Jace says as he tries to be cool and nonchalant—and get out of the room before his unwelcomed boner comes into full fury. He's knows that it's inappropriate and irrational, but he has a crush on Olympia Christopoulus that won't wait; it has been the real reason behind much of his fear and resolve for keeping his shit above-board and his behavior beyond question.

Olympia gives him a nod never breaking her gaze from his before he turns and dashes off, and not a moment too soon. Once he is in the privacy of his room he berates himself as he changes quickly into jeans and the longest t-shirt that he can find. "Not now, motherfucker..." he hisses under his breath as he gives himself a hard tug and then tries to adjust his cock into submission. Between his thoughts of the night before and the beauty sitting downstairs with lemonade, lunch and that sexy smile on her luscious lips he is in sexual overdrive and prays that he can get his shit together and stay focused. He thinks about Olympia kicking his ass with her two thousand dollar, well-worn snakeskin Lucchese boots, but that doesn't help at all; he thinks about a bullet careening towards his brain from a smoking gun held in Ajax Troy's hand and that helps a little better; he shudders to think how pissed Adam would be if he ever found him out and that helps only a little more, but still not enough. He pulls his t-shirt down over his baggy jeans, prays for the best and rushes back downstairs.

"Didn't mean to keep you waiting..."

"No problem, sit..." she tells him graciously. "Are you hungry?"

_Not for food... _Jace groans inwardly. "No," he says out loud.

"Adam?"

"I'm cool, auntie."

"Okay. Well, I just heard an hour ago from Jax and Cas—they've landed safely, checked into their hotel and are meeting, as we speak, with the rest of their team in São Paulo. They expect to be back by tomorrow evening."

"Wow...that quick?" asks Adam, thoroughly amazed.

"Yes, well, while you boys were playing I was on the horn with one of our Specialists—we've all been working on this for a while now, just waiting on Cas to get better. Our targets are well within range and ready to have a little reunion—even though they don't know it yet," Olympia confirmed, her sweet smile now replaced with a much more chilling one; it should have killed his desire but for some God-awful reason it made the beast in Jace's baggy prison re-awaken from its near-slumber to rage anew. "And Cas wants you to be ready for another party when he gets back—back to Vegas—and then you two are on."

"Cool," says Adam; Jace says nothing and only nods.

"We'll pay a visit to Dr. Plenier in Marseille, first; then Dr. Blansky in D.C.; next will be Florida for Dr. Pressman and then back home to take care of Dr. Boseman and Wanda Cho. Any questions?"

"Yes, aunt Olympia..." Adam struggles to keep his voice even and without emotion. "Did uncle Ajax ever find out if Eve was involved with faking dad's death certificate?"

The vengeful gleam in Olympia's eyes fades and gives way to one of sorrow; she looks at her young nephew very pointedly and speaks to him very gently as she continues. "I'm sorry, Adam—it's been confirmed—she signed off on it knowing full-well that Cas was alive...Sean never knew."

"That fucking BITCH!" Adam roars as he jumps up from the couch in a rage. "Oh, GOD, that explains everything..." he paces the floor in anger, thinking back on the years when her discomfort around him reached a crescendo; when she could never look him in his eyes without fear being registered in her own; fear born of guilt and deceit, first directed at him when he was a boy of no more than ten years old. By the time Adam had grown into a teenager Eve was a wreck; enough so that Sean had at least realized that the boy deserved a break from her irrational and increasing outbursts even though he had not known from what well of tension they had come from. She had lied to him, all of that time and her guilt had made her lash out at Sean and Adam both, causing a vicious circle of jealousy and mistrust that almost infected the entire household. But Sean, torn and in the middle, loved them both too much to either delve too deeply into her paranoia or continue to have to the poor boy be subjected to her vocal tirades and silent accusations alone without him; he retired from the Bureau determined to assuage his wife as much as humanly possible and protect his beautiful boy from her in whatever manner was necessary.

The stress had taken a toll on his heart in more ways than the physical one. Adam realized that poor Sean thought he had been successful, dividing his time equally between them and making sure that Adam had a healthy, happy life of his own unfettered by Eve's scrutiny, which only served to make her more jealous and distrustful even though she tried to play it cool. By the time Adam started receiving the notes in his locker and fearing the worst, he realized at that moment that it wasn't that Sean didn't care—he was simply too consumed with keeping the daily peace in his house to really hear what Adam was trying to tell him.

Olympia rises to go to her nephew. "Adam? Are you alright, honey? I know that sounds like a stupid question...but honey? Adam?"

"There was no reason for any of this..." Adam begins distantly. "Sean never kept any secrets from me, never—he loved me. He really did, auntie; he told me who I was; he told me who my father was—and can you believe he never said a bad thing about him? He never did. He just gave me the information. It was like he almost really became my father—how could he not? Living in his skin, even for that small amount of time..."

"Honey..." Olympia took the boy in her arms, holding back her own tears.

"You have to know that, auntie—he never said a bad thing; he gave me the information to process, just the basics, then he introduced me to my mother's sister. He was always available to me but I know now why he held back on things I really wanted to know—he was afraid that I would _worry_ about being like the worst of my dad; that I would doubt myself. He never said it out loud—all he ever did was tell me how great I was and how proud my father would have been of me. Eve was worried that I would _become_ my dad—she didn't care about how I felt, at all. That man...that man—I know he was not perfect and he never tried to act like he was, auntie—that man loved me. He loved _me_. I want you to know that. And I know that my dad is sorry about Michael; I know that my dad _loves _and that he's not perfect, either—he's told me as much, himself. I honor them both. And Eve is going to pay—for hurting them both."

"Adam, my poor baby..."

"No, no more 'poor baby'—those days are over. I understand everything now. I have no love for that woman. None. I'm not even sorry that I'm going to make Jamie motherless before her time, I'm really not. I want the next kill and I want Eve, do you understand me?"

It is Olympia's turn to shudder as she watches her nephew transform completely right before her eyes, looking so much like angelic Pollux and sounding so much like his father that it was almost unnerving. Jace had risen from his seat, as well, feeling heartbroken and helpless to ease his friend's pain.

"Adam..."

"It's cool, man—you're here...that means everything to me. I'll be fine, real soon, and then we can get to the life we were meant to live."

"I'm living the life I was meant to live, man. We're just brothers from another mother, right?" says Jace, who has reached a turning point within himself, as well. He realizes that what he's looking at is a family that cares about each other and has found enough love in their hearts to care about him, as well.

"Right, man."

"I'm glad to hear you say that, Jace. We have a date down below."

Both young men cast questioning eyes towards her.

"Down below?" asks Adam. Jace, immediately titillated and feeling like a horny moron, slaps himself upside the head mentally to try and erase the image there.

"Yes...we have a shooting range below ground—and it's time to get some practice in...follow me..."

* * *

><p>"Really?" asks Castor disgustedly as he looks around the club. "This place just gives me a headache—and makes me feel old. What are two geezer, prison-fuckers doing hanging out in a place like this?" he asks his brother as he continues to scope the Lions Nightclub signature light display and its ever-young clientele.<p>

"Oh, come on Cas...you're the one being a geezer right now..." his brother jokes. "What does any man come to a place like this for?"

"I don't know—to dance to this insanely crappy music? Really—where are these two fucks, already?" he asks impatiently of Prior Howard and Aaron Billings.

"They should be here any minute," Bruce Cantara tells his boss calmly.

"Well, I hope so, Bruce—or your ass is fired!"

"Cas, calm down—you know Bruce is a good man—what is it?" Ajax asks him delicately.

"I don't know—all these fucking lights...blood..."

"What?"

"BLOOD! ALL I WANT TO SEE IS BLOOD, GODDAMMIT!" he screams out in sing-song as he pounds his fist in a rage on the table.

"Cas—calm the fuck down, bro..." Ajax cautions him, his tone more brusque than before.

Across the table Bruce whispers to his partner, Nicky Sumner.

"Whispering? WHISPERING? What. The FUCK. Bruce?" Castor asks him indignantly. "You got something to SAY, Bruce?"

"Sir, they just walked in," he nodded in the direction of the door.

"Well, that's the fuck more like it. Go get 'em already!" Bruce and Nicky take off.

"These are good men, Cas and you're about to fuck shit up majorly—come on...back to the hotel...now..." Ajax orders him.

"What?"

"Change in plans—for some reason this place is making you crazy—come on, there's still Jude Tabor to collect and its another chopper ride to the meatpacking district." Ajax places a short call from his cell phone. "Come on, the car is out back—let's go."

* * *

><p>Four hours later the three ex-guards are assembled and restrained upon gurneys in an abandoned meat-packing warehouse near Aracatuba.<p>

"Hello fellas...remember me?" Castor asks the three bound men crazily as he paces the floor. "No, I guess not because all any of you can see is the fucking ceiling. And you can't possibly recognize my voice because I don't think any of you...EVER FUCKING HEARD IT! But, I digress. You are all... going to die horribly tonight."

He walks to the first gurney where Jude Tabor, a fifty-ish diehard skinhead, is bound.

"Let me guess—grandson of the Grand Master? You fuck..." Castor says as he leans his face over the man who looks up at him in terror trying to scream through his duct-taped mouth. "What was that? You really must learn to enunciate properly, dude. So, which one of you did it first? Slammed his filthy red-neck elbow into my throat the first time for fun—was it you, Jude? Huh? You wanna know what that shit felt like? What was that? Oh! Let's take this off!" Castor rips the tape violently from his mouth.

"You faggot fuck! Can't do your own dirty work like a real man, huh?" the doomed man spits at him.

"_You_ are incorrect, sir—I'm _all _about the dirty work..." Castor says and then slams his elbow into the man's throat. "Kinda tickles, huh? What? I can't hear you..." says Castor over the choking man. "Cool. I hope you're a film buff, because for our enjoyment we've hired some of your fellow survivors of the Carandiru Massacre—you know, the ones you TORTURED! _'Back down Memory Lane' _" Castor starts singing soulfully. "Remember that shit? Well, they're here to re-enact one of our favorite scenes from—wait for it... 'Pulp Fiction'! And believe me," Castor leans down over the man again and takes a conspiratorial tone, "if you call them fucking faggots they'll take it as more than a compliment. Really, you're in for good times, dude. And when they're finished with you you have a last date with me and a chainsaw, okay?" he says, as if he's scolding a naughty little boy. "How's that for dirty work?" Castor begins a mad dance around the room that ends with a headbang to music only he can hear. "Huh? Yeah! That's the fuck what I'm talking about! You hear that boys?" he says to the other two terrified men. "Don't worry, there's enough tickets to the "E" rides for everyone!" He lets out a joyous hoot as Tabor is wheeled out.


	17. Lesson Plan

**A/N Face/Off is a fantastic movie written by Mike Werb and Michael Colleary and directed by John Woo. **

* * *

><p>I own absolutely nothing.<p>

Adam and Eve

Ch 17 Lesson Plan

It is late and Jace can't sleep. He and Adam had both done well under Olympia's tutelage and were both looking forward to more target practice the next morning—which he realizes is only three or four hours away when he checks his cell phone. He isn't sleepy, hungry or physically tired enough to just crash into a good sleep and feels completely restless. He turns on the television and goes through all the premium channels but finds nothing to hold his interest. He thinks of his mother, who is a confirmed night owl, and knows that as surely as the moon is hanging in the night sky she is up, probably watching a movie or reading a book. He wants badly to hear her voice but squashes the emotion and the tear that is about to form in the corner of his eye. At that point he wonders about his buddy, who had found his escape into an exhausted sleep right after dinner on the living room couch. Jace turns off the television and heads downstairs. When he gets to the living room he sees that Adam is gone, probably roused by Olympia and sent to bed properly. He goes to the kitchen then to raid the refrigerator. When he gets there he finds Olympia at the table in the nook looking over some papers.

"Hey there, honey. You might as well know that no one in this house sleeps right worth a damn. If Ajax was here we'd all be having a third drink by now..." she smiles up at him. "Hey? You okay?"

"Sure, just restless."

"You hungry?"

"No, not really."

"You want a drink?"

"No, that won't help, either."

"Sit down, Jace."

He does as he is told, happy and scared to be in her presence alone.

"It's a lot to take in. I see you going back and forth in your head—I've been there. Just take slow deep breaths and take it one moment at a time."

"I don't mean to come off..."

"You don't, honey. You know what we are. We're criminals; killers; drug traffickers; hookers; pimps—at least Ajax is, Cas never trafficked in women. It's got to be overwhelming. I bet before you came down here you were thinking about your old life and wondering how the hell this all happened and how you could embrace something you know absolutely nothing about. Huh?"

"Well, I used to sell weed—I wasn't angel."

"Sure you were. You know, our legitimate family business is olive oil importing. Big business here but even more so in the old country. The stuff that gets imported here is a horrible, watered-down version of the real thing, you know," she gives his cheek a little slap, "you never heard that, huh?"

Jace smiles. "No, I never heard that. But I don't think it's such a big secret anymore."

"Maybe not, smart guy, but you didn't hear it from me," she reaches out and tousles the hair on the top of his head playfully. Jace reaches up and takes her hand in his and stops her.

"Please don't do that, I'm not a kid," he says seriously enough for her to stop smiling and really consider him as the man he is surely becoming.

"You're right, Jace, I'm sorry." She extricates her hand from his. "You know, Castor is exorcising his demons right now and when he's done I really think he's going to be ready to settle into a life a lot less exciting—he'll just want to enjoy his family."

"I get that."

"But my brother Ajax is still very connected to the life; he's still a very big deal on the East Coast. He's only taken this little hiatus to help Cas. He's got very good people working for him, but at some point he's going to have to go back and work his territory in person, full time—at least until he goes legit. That's the plan, anyway. I mean, between Castor and Jax we're all set for life, as far as money goes. But Jax still has other obligations—do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Not really."

"How do you feel about what happened with Adam today?" she asks him then. "Because he's clearly taken a turn."

"I never knew his adopted mom, so I have no feelings for her. I know he cares about Jamie and his aunt Talia. But his hurt is my hurt—I knew Sean, and he was a good man—at least to Adam."

"Don't feel obligated to be something that you're not, Jace, that's all I'm saying; you've given up a lot and have already proven yourself to everyone in this house, do you understand now?"

"You think I'm some sort of coward?" he accuses her indignantly.

"Of course not, don't play me for stupid—or yourself," she says harshly. "You didn't answer my question—how do you feel about what happened with Adam today?"

"How do _you_ feel about what happened with Adam today?" Jace asks her angrily. Olympia is a little taken aback.

"Honestly? It kind of broke my heart," she replies, a touch of anger in her own voice.

"Well, I can't really say that I'm surprised. He's been stressed and unhappy for a lot of years—it hurts to be rejected and even worse to be betrayed. Eve did that to him. If Adam becomes the worst of Eve's fears, as far as I'm concerned, it's her own damn fault. I care about Adam. Bottom line."

"Okay, we'll leave it at that."

"Yes, let's."

"What are you so angry about, Jace? There's something else..."

"You really don't know?"

"Oh," Olympia shifts uncomfortably in her seat.

"Yeah, 'oh'."

"I think you're just...feeling Vegas, honey. Relax, you're going back tomorrow night."

"What I want is not in Vegas." Jace looks very pointedly at her. "There...I said it. You're driving me crazy...since the night I first laid eyes on you. Olympia." Just saying her given name without any other title is liberation for him.

"Let me tell you something, young man," she begins hotly.

"Don't 'young man' me," he warns her as he stands up from the table and approaches her.

"Jace," she stands up to face him, "I can hurt you and I really don't want to do that. I'm attracted to you but I'm not stupid. Don't you be stupid, either. You're too young for me and I'm too old for you...you're missing your old life, your family; you're lonely and out of sorts—what you're thinking? Always a recipe for disaster in that state of mind, with any woman. Work off your stress in Vegas, Jace, but don't confuse what you're feeling as something real for me."

"I'm not confusing anything. I want to kiss you," he says very definitely.

"Tell you what—hold that thought and get back to me when you're twenty-five—live your life and see how you feel then. I guarantee you won't feel the same. I guarantee it. And I promise I won't rub your nose in it and tell you I told you so," she smiles at him.

"Don't do that, don't treat me like a child."

"But you're acting like one. I'm flattered, but not enough to make this mistake with you. You'll thank me later, trust me." Olympia begins to collect her papers from the table as she prepares to leave him. Acting like very much like the man that he is, he stops her and puts his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him.

"Jace, I'm warning you..."

Jace silences her with a tender kiss. Olympia allows it for a mere moment, losing herself in his desire and her own then catches herself and pushes him away.

"Not cool, Jace— for either one of us. You had your kiss—there won't be another," she tells him angrily. "We can forget this or just enjoy the memory—either way we're going to move forward, do you understand? We've got too much to do to be awkward around each other and I won't hold it against you. But I'm not nineteen anymore..."

"Neither am I..."

"We're not entertaining this conversation any further. Good night, Jace." Olympia leaves him.

Jace gives her a split second then follows her to her room and gets to her door before she can close and lock it. He stands before her but says nothing as he bars her from closing it with one hand held high gripping the door frame. She is kind of tall for a woman-at least 5' 7" without her boots on—and Jace, only four inches taller than her, revels in that fact as he looks down at her, mesmerized by the heave of her chest as her anger rises.

"You're just curious, Jace" she says finally, exasperated beyond all measure. Still Jace says nothing. "You don't want to learn the lesson that I can teach you," she warns him tiredly.

"And what lesson is that, Olympia? How to bury you heart and desires until you've killed them both off?"

"How dare you! You don't know anything about me..."

"And you don't really know anything about me. I'm not looking for a teacher..." he pushes her further into her room and enters, slamming the door behind them.

"Are you crazy? Are you trying to wake Adam up with all of this nonsense? Get out of my room, Jace."

"Why aren't you married, Olympia?"

"It's not something I've ever wanted."

"Ajax and Castor pursue their desires—what do you do about yours?"

"That's none of your business."

"It is now..."

"Jace..."

"You think you're my first older woman?"

"I really could care less..."

"I'm not just curious, Olympia. I won't say anything else...except this..." Jace drops to his knees before her and hugs her tightly to him then kisses her flat belly through her clothes. He unbuckles her belt and then undoes her jeans and slips them to the floor, revealing her sexy white lace boy-cut panties and kisses her mound through the sheer fabric. He reaches up to unbutton her blouse and rises to find her luscious 34 double D's encased in see-through white bra. Against her olive skin the white is tantalizing and virginal.

Olympia finds herself amazed at his mature handling of her and gives in to his touch reluctantly. Jace kisses her deeply as he presses his body into hers, giving her the first real evidence of what had only been hinted at earlier that day. Well, he is a young man, she thinks silently to herself, endowed with all of the blessings of youth: a hard body, a physique like a pampered young movie star and the chiseled face of one, as well; framed by long, shaggy sun-bleached surfer hair, soft and curly—a golden halo. He peels off his shirt and drops his baggy jeans, naked underneath them and ready for her; there is no surprise there, either, and certainly no disappointment, where she finds his happy erection almost waving hello to her. All over she finds that he is mesmerizing and her body responds as if it could care less that her brain is pounding its objections in her skull in the form of an instant headache. Her discomfort is visible and he sees it in her eyes; he drops to his knees again, pulling her panties down gingerly and then descends upon the wet, glorious wonderland between her legs and proceeds to eat her alive. He grips her soft, round ass in his hands and works her like he wants to as she moans above him, her whole body on fire and at his mercy.

"This is so wrong, Jace..." she murmurs at him; between her legs she can feel him nod his head in happy agreement as he sends into the first of many explosive orgasms she will endure before the sun rises to greet them.

* * *

><p>When Castor and Ajax return home the following evening they find the house quiet and seemingly uninhabited.<p>

"Where the hell is everybody?" Castor asks his brother, more than annoyed. Just then Olympia enters the living room from upstairs. She sees her brothers and runs to greet them.

"God, I'm so glad to see you both—welcome home! What do you want? Cas, give me that..." she takes his suitcase. "Jax—you guys are early—why didn't you call? We would have come to the airport..." she scolds them both.

"I do love the way you fuss over me, sis," Castor smiles and hugs her tightly. "I'm beat. Where are the boys?"

"I can't get them out of the basement—their new happy place is the range..." she chuckles.

"Good. How are they doing?"

"You see where I am, don't you? They're doing just fine," she assures him.

Ajax hugs her then. "Anything to eat?"

"Of course—you looking for a snack or a meal?"

"A meal, sweetheart," he smiles knowingly at her.

"Coming right up..." Olympia says as she heads for the kitchen.

"I'm going down to check on the boys..." says Castor to his brother.

"I'll come with."

"Dad! You're back early! He puts his weapon down and goes to greet his father and uncle with open arms. Jace follows and gets hugged by the two men, as well.

"You looked good over there," says Ajax to him. "What are you working with?"

"A Glock 17..."

"Nice—how do you like it?"

"It feels good, I gotta say."

"How did it go, dad?"

"Well, son, I'm home. That's all I ever want to say about it," Castor answers his son somberly. "Olympia is upstairs cooking something scrumptious—let's go eat and then head for Vegas for a little fun. We'll talk about Marseille. Come on, Jace, let's go get some chow, dude," he says as he signals over to him and Ajax.

"Good God, what heaven is my nose in, sis?" asks Castor as he dances into the kitchen.

"Rack of lamb, honey. Twenty more minutes..."

"Damn, girl, you woulda made that ex-boyfriend of yours a damn fine wife—if you hadn't shot him." Castor breaks out into hysterical laughter and is joined by his brother who finds himself unable to stifle his own.

"Very funny, Cas," she frowns at him in reprimand.

The laughter is infectious and both Adam and Jace find it impossible not to join in although they have no idea what the joke is.

"Aunt Olympia? Let us in on it, already..." asks Adam through a smile.

"You're right, I'm sorry, sis. Ajax, c'mon, stop, really," Castor says, apologetically. He comports himself in a more respectful manner as his sister turns back to the fresh green beans she's sauteing in a skillet. "Uh, I think you boys should know, that uh, your fine auntie..." Castor begins to lose it slightly but recovers, "has a short temper, a hair-trigger finger and excellent aim—you'd both do well to remember that," Castor tells them seriously; he looks at Ajax who is trying very hard to maintain his own composure. Then two men look away from each other and begin to laugh hysterically again.

"Oh, all of you, just get the hell out of here until dinner is ready, Jesus..." she tells them all irritatedly.

Adam and Jace, still very much in the dark but laughing as well, leave the kitchen immediately.

"Well, what are you two waiting for?"

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry," says Castor. "Look, sis, you didn't come with us last time, but I insist that you come to Vegas with us tonight. We need to talk—we could really use you in Marseille and there's a side trip to Paris in it—strictly a shopping thing, not work."

"You don't have to bribe me with a shopping trip in Paris to get me to help out, Cas."

"I know, honey—the shopping trip is for me..." he says and begins laughing again. Olympia throws a hot green bean at him from across the room.

Throughout the rest of the evening Olympia and Jace both amaze each other at how detached they are from the events of the night before. And although she is looking forward to France, Vegas is always a trip she abhors. She is far from the jealous type—and even if she was she knows that she and Jace are not that kind of party—but she is not in the mood to sit in the company of whores for the rest of the night as a spectator on the sidelines cheerleading her men in their debaucherous behavior. She says nothing more about it and dinner is as light-hearted and enjoyable as ever. Adam and Jace help her wash up the dishes afterward and then everyone goes to pack.

They all met up at the limo twenty minutes later.

"I think now is as good a time as any to tell you that Telly is meeting us, Olympia," Ajax tells her as he holds the door for her.

"What? Ajax..." she begins angrily.

"He's got what we need for the next one, it couldn't be avoided. You're the weapons expert—we need you. Surely you can put aside..."

"Don't say another word to me—either of you," she snaps at them both as Castor approaches. From the back seat Adam and Jace hear the exchange. Adam becomes uneasy and shoots his aunt a sympathetic smile. She reaches across the seat and gives his knee a reassuring squeeze as she mouths her 'thank you' at him before she turns away to glare out of the window in deep thought.

Jace becomes pissed as he realizes that Telly is either the one that got away or the one that didn't want to go; based on Olympia's upset and the obvious amusement of her brothers, he knows that the awkward factor of his evening has just risen exponentially.

"Don't fret, boys...he's just the guy your aunt shot," Castor tells them after he slides in beside them and takes note of their bewilderment. Across from him Olympia is now fuming; Castor looks at his brother seated beside her and they break out into uproarious laughter again as the limo takes off into the night.


	18. Party Over Here

**A/N Face/Off is a fantastic movie written by Mike Werb and Michael Colleary and directed by John Woo. **

* * *

><p>I own absolutely nothing.<p>

Adam and Eve

Ch 18 Party Over Here

"Now...huh? This is more like it, yeah?" says Castor as he strolls into his new favorite night spot flanked by Ajax, Olympia, Adam and Jace. "This is my kind of place," he says of the club, which has a very retro fifties Rat Pack feel; it is almost two a.m. and the place is in full swing. "I know I was born in the wrong decade...but I've at least got to be the long-lost love child of Frank Sinatra..." he says as he dances over to what is now considered their usual booth. "Sit, family," he orders them as he waits for Olympia to scoot in first. He notes the obvious displeasure on her face as she squeezes past him. "Oh baby—are you still mad at me?" he coos at her with his killer charm and arresting smile.

"Cas, just...drop it, okay?" she says, doing a fair job of hiding the rage just boiling beneath the surface of her calm exterior.

"I know—you're a trooper, baby. Okay then," he says as he sits beside her, "switching gears...you did a wonderful job with the boys here—you two look fantastic," he says of Jace and Adam, who had been taken on a little shopping spree at Cesar's Palace by Ajax and Olympia almost as soon as they got off the plane. Both young men had been outfitted and procured the latest designer fashions: suits, tuxedos, casual wear and all of the other accoutrements needed befitting young men about to travel abroad. "Very nice—how do you like yourselves?"

"Not bad, if I do say so myself," says Adam, more than a little surprised as he looks down at himself in casual but very stylish light grey jacket, crisp white European-cut white shirt and pale slate blue slacks. "Who knew?" he laughs at himself. Castor gives his son a hearty pat on the shoulder.

"Jace—looking good, dude," he says to the young man who evokes the aura of a rock star in a simple but devastatingly form-hugging black printed ribbed crew neck shirt, charcoal grey button front vest and slim tailored black slacks.

"Thank you, sir."

"Boy, if I have to tell you one more time..." Castor shoots Jace a crazy look. "C'mon, Goddammit!" he pounds the table angrily bringing everyone in the room to attention.

Jace reddens in the face but smiles at the man sincerely. "Uncle Castor."

"That's what I'm talkin' about!" he pounds the table again. "Alright—let's get some fucking drinks over here, already...Cynthia, love..." he calls to the waitress a few tables away.

"Good evening, Mr. Archer, what may I get you?" asks the tall Senegalese beauty, stunning in an ultra short black lace chemise with an elegant plunging ruffled halter neck as she passes her pretty smile around the table to the entire party. Adam says nothing as he shoots his aunt and uncle an amused look.

"A bottle of Belver Bears, darling—pronto..." he asks her sweetly.

"Yes sir, right away," she smiles graciously and leaves them.

"Sweet Jesus," Castor murmurs appreciatively as she walks away.

"Dad, really? Archer?" his son asks him with a sly smile.

"Huh? Oh...well, son, I can't come out to the world just yet—if ever do. I'm cool with that. So yes, for purposes such as this one I'm Sean, again—call it...an homage, if you will, to the man who took in my son and raised him with love."

Cynthia returns then with a crystal drink tray containing five works of art that are Waterford shot glasses, each a different, vibrant color: ruby red, sky blue, smokey quartz, amethyst and smokey black, all surrounding a back-lit Plexiglas bear bottle. She then places black linen napkins pinstriped with fine silver threads before them and proceeds to pour; Castor takes one hand and kisses it as he places two thousand dollar notes in her other.

"Thank you, lovely, we'll take it from here..."

"My pleasure, Mr. Archer." She leaves them.

"Ajax, would you do the honors?" Castor smiles at him.

"Of course..." he says as he pour for them all and hands them their glasses.

"Stin Ygia mas!" Castor raises his glass as the others follow suit.

"Stin Ygia mas!" they all cheer, Olympia less enthusiastically than usual.

"Olympia..." Castor drawls at his sister in reprimand, "I hate to tell you, but you are being quite the killjoy..." he says, his tone a warning.

She has never admitted it to anyone, but being in strip clubs, no matter how upscale, always takes Olympia back to the darkest days of her life on a near PTSD level; combined with the fact that she has been duped into coming along and the fact that she is there at all makes it a chore to keep her composure. She dares to look at the two young men sitting next to Castor and notes that Adam and Jace are very evidently enjoying the sights and sounds of the place, each in his own laid-back manner and smiles ruefully to herself at her predicament; she looks pointedly at Castor then and leans in closer to him. "Drop it, bro. I'll be just fine as soon as I'm done dealing with Telly, got it?" She manages to keep her voice low and level.

"Whoa!" he laughs as he holds up his hands in surrender, "Okay, okay...I hear you. Have another drink, sis," he says as he pours her another shot in apology. Olympia downs it quickly.

"Keep them coming..." she orders him angrily. Next to her Ajax pats her leg under the table.

"I'm good, Jax," she snaps at him. All of the men at the table are now visibly on edge. "Well, where the fuck is he?" she demands of Castor then.

"He'll be here..." Castor tries to assuage her.

"If he's not here in thirty minutes there won't be any deal...there are plenty of others we can buy from..."

"Now Olympia, c'mon—he's the best and you know it..." Ajax tries to reason with her.

"Thirty fucking minutes," she says as she pours herself another shot and downs it just as quickly as the others.

Across from her Jace hides his own upset well, sorry to see her so angry; he wishes that he could just get up and take her away with him and hopes deep down that whoever the bastard is doesn't show; he hopes that she'll go on up to her room so that he can steal away and hold her, kiss her—possess her again if she wants him to.

Ten minutes pass and he is aware that she's downed at least five more shots even though he's been holding conversation with Adam; in his short time with them Jace has never seen her take more than three shots of vodka and he wonders just exactly what she's feeling and how. Castor and Ajax are having their own conversation and he notes that each of them look at their watches often and then furtively back at each other. The whole ordeal makes Jace feel like he's in the middle of a Spaghetti Western showdown. Olympia is quiet and still in her seat between them, looking into her ruby red shot glass with no expression on her beautiful face whatsoever. Jace tries to concentrate again on the words coming out of Adam's mouth, which concern a hot little brunette number sitting at the bar that he's been making eyes at all evening. Jace plays off very well that he doesn't know or care about the girl Adam wants to bone; he nods and smiles in agreement and tries to focus on any and everything except Olympia. Suddenly the other men, who have been allowed to cast their glances at her openly and without restriction take note of her immediately as she looks up from her glass and glares over her shoulder at the entrance to the room. They all follow her gaze and see a tall handsome African-American man being fawned over by the hostess as she greets him. Olympia stares back into her glass but the men watch and wait for the man to be ushered to their table.

He is not at all what Jace expected, which was some older, unattractive Greek hood; or some sleazy East Coast Italian hood; or some slimy Hollywood wannabee hood—a hood of some sort, of the type that Jace figured littered Olympia's professional social circle. This guy doesn't look like a hood at all. He looks like his way cool high school history teacher, Mr. Jordan. His shoulder-length, neatly styled dreads sway as he walks toward them in his simple black v-neck sweater, tight gray Diesel jeans and brown work boots. His smile is warm, his face is youthful and Jace finds it impossible to properly determine his age.

"Hey Telly!" Castor rises as Jace and Adam move to let him out; when he is free he approaches the man and gives him a warm hug.

"It's damn good to see you, man," Telly says into Castor's ear. "Mr. Archer!" he says out loud. "Yo—Jax, man—hey!" he says when Castor releases him. The two men hug warmly. "Hello..." he says to Adam and Jace. "Nice to meet you—you are?"

"New recruits," says Olympia stiffly from her seat. The man turns to her then and waits before he says anything else.

Adam and Jace nod their hellos as Castor takes his seat again.

"Sit," she says simply, still not looking at him.

"He looks like Mr. Jordan," says Adam out of the side of his mouth to Jace as they sit down.

"Yeah..." Jace manages.

"Hello, Pia..."

She glares up at him angrily. "Don't you ever call me that. I said sit."

Telly only smiles at her. "Uh, no offense," he looks to Castor and Ajax then back at Olympia, "can we talk privately at my table, Olympia?"

"No, we talk here."

Ajax, who is still standing to let her out, shoots her a reprimanding look.

"Goddammit!" she hisses under her breath as she scoots out of her seat and rises to face the man.

"You look lovely," he begins genuinely.

"Shut up. Let's go, already..."

"Right over here," he smiles as he leads her away to a nearby table.

"What the hell, dad?" asks Adam when they are gone and out of earshot.

"Adam, my boy, never in the history of mankind has that very question _not_ been uttered at or about every woman in creation at one time or another...don't try to figure it out, son. Just pray that she makes a deal with him and doesn't shoot him before he has the chance to honor it." Castor looks at his brother and they both laugh knowingly as their two young charges look on in total bewilderment.

"Why don't you two go and have some fun now," Ajax suggests, "we'll hold down the fort here. And you can sleep in in the morning—we won't need you tomorrow until three p.m. We'll be ready to discuss details with you both then."

"Yes, boys—pleasure tonight, business tomorrow—go on, get outta here," Castor dismisses them.

Even though Adam is worried about his aunt he is ready to let off some steam of his own and eager to go; Jace feigns the same eagerness and the two of them nod at the elder Troy's then head to the bar without another word.

* * *

><p>Thirty minutes later Olympia Christopoulus and Telly Langston reach a deal and are shaking on it.<p>

"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" he asks her as he continues to hold her hand in his.

"Let go, Telly, I'm not in the mood for your shit." He obeys.

"You look as lovely as ever—I said that already, huh? Did you get all dressed up for lil 'ol me?" he jokes as he drinks in his former love dressed in her usual manner and nowhere near as smartly attired as her companions.

"Isn't there enough flesh around here to keep you happy? And you can talk, by the way," she snaps at him.

"Well, I had other business before I came here—I didn't have time to change," he counters.

"Yeah, well I was tricked into coming, myself. Not that it matters."

"You don't need to be scantily clad to tempt me, Pia."

"I said don't call me that."

"So, are you training the new recruits?"

"Of course I am."

"They can handle what I've got coming to you?"

"They'll be able. Don't fuck me on this, Telly..." she begins threateningly.

"Have I ever fucked you on a deal, Pia?"

"Say it one more time—I dare you."

"Okay, okay. But have I?"

"No...not on a deal," she levels at him.

"Still holding grudges, I see."

"You don't matter enough to me to hold a grudge, Telly. On time, in full, tomorrow morning at eleven. We're done here." She rises to go.

Telly grabs her hand and pins it to the table under his grasp. "Not so fast."

"What?" Olympia is irritated beyond all measure and tries to yank her hand away; Telly twists it and pins her into submission. "That hurts, motherfucker..."

"I know...you ready to talk for real now?"

"You know I could kick your ass all over this room—do you really want to do this? I'm down if you are..."

"I don't want to fight, Olympia. I want to talk to you."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Sure there is—just indulge me." Telly lets her hand go.

"Okay," she sits back down, " let's talk. Talk." She crosses her arms defiantly across her chest.

"Not here."

"Fuck you," she spits at him and rises angrily.

"Olympia, I'm warning you—don't make a scene or you'll be sorry," he smiles up at her.

Two men approach her suddenly very quietly but say nothing as they stand behind her.

"Oh, nice, Telly, you're going to goon me into bed?"

"Olympia, go and tell your party that the deal has been made and then you come with me to my house."

"Oh, hell no..." she snorts indignantly.

From the bar Jace has been trying to ignore what's going on at her table, but when he sees the two men standing menacingly behind Olympia he taps Adam on the shoulder.

"Excuse us, please ladies?" says Adam to the two girls they've been making plans with after he sees what looks like trouble. They head to Castor and Ajax.

"Dad, do you see what's going on over there?" Adam asks him, more than alarmed.

"Boys, mind your own business—she's okay. Go on—get outta here and take it upstairs now. I mean it," Castor warns them both.

"Young people today," sighs Ajax, "never in my life was I lucky enough to be sent off to bed with pussy," he laments with a smile. "Go on, don't worry," he tells them firmly.

Adam and Jace leave reluctantly, Jace even more so as his head fills with silent screams of frustration.

Moments after they leave Olympia approaches her brothers.

"It's done. Eleven a.m. tomorrow. We make the transfer, our men take delivery in Paris and Miami. All transport is set. I'm going to Boulder City now."

"You okay?" Castor asks her in earnest.

"Don't talk to me right now, Cas. I'll see you both tomorrow." Olympia leaves them angrily and heads for the one who is waiting outside for her.

"Well, big brother, that's done. Time to party..." Castor smiles as he motions to Cynthia and her achingly beautiful red-headed companion across the room.

* * *

><p>"I don't know what's going on man, but they said she's okay and I don't have any reason not to believe them. Now, we've got two beautiful young ladies here and I need this," Adam tells his buddy in the hallway outside of their adjoining rooms.<p>

"Hey! Is everything okay out there?" calls out the girl in Adam's room.

"Yeah, I'll be right there..." he calls back at her. Go get yours, man, cuz I'm sure getting' ready to get mine. Cool?"

Jace has taken a big chance on voicing his concern for Adam's aunt but was simply unable to stop himself. He could see that Adam was more than placated by his father and uncle and that his brain was steadily switching to standby with every bit of blood being diverted to his dick; he realizes it is more than likely the only reason his friend doesn't become instantly suspicious of his motives for being so concerned.

"Yeah, cool. Enjoy yourself," he says half heartedly.

"You don't have to tell me twice. 'Night, man."

"Good night."

When he gets to his room his date for the evening attacks him from behind the door and kisses him hungrily.

"God you're so handsome! I think me and my girlfriend are the luckiest girls in Vegas tonight...we could have been at a totally boring bachelorette party be we slipped away and managed to get in this place and now here you and I are..." she says after she releases his lips from hers. "I can't wait to wrap my mouth around you—I saw this from a mile away..." she says excitedly as she slips her hand into the top of his pants and begins groping for him.

"It's called a zipper—try using it," he says irritatedly, feeling completely detached from her and what she's doing.

"You're funny..." she smiles at him but does as she is told. "Oh, yeah, I knew it...damn, baby..."

Jace frowns at her forced familiarity of him. "Hey...chill with the 'baby' shit..."

"Okay, I'm fine with just fucking—you don't have to hold my hand..." she smiles at him and gets on her knees before him. All Jace can think about is Olympia and the angry look on her face the whole evening; the girl has him and is moving along full steam with her agenda. Jace looks down at her, feeling as if he's having an out of body experience; he sees the girl but feels nothing even though his body is responding. Suddenly, all he wants is for her to stop.

"Hey, what's your name?" She mumbles an incoherent response. "Whatever—get off of me..." he tries to pull away but she resists. "Hey! I said stop," he yells at her and slaps her lightly on the head.

"Hey! That's just rude," she says angrily as she backs away from him on her knees.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that, I just wanted you to stop," he says apologetically as he goes to help her up from the floor.

"Get away from me. What are you? Gay or something? I thought you were too cute to be straight...shit," she says disgustedly as she scrambles up from the floor. "Why is this always happening to me?" she spins around in a circle frantically. "Where the hell is my fucking purse?"

"In the chair..." he points to it.

"Humph...you probably like my purse better than you like me," she grabs it and then looks at him long and hard but says nothing. She rolls her eyes hard at him then and storms out of the room.

Jace goes to the door and closes it quietly. He walks over to the window and looks out at the brightly lit city and wonders where Olympia is and if she's alright. He knows that he won't sleep worth a damn and that by three p.m. he's going to be completely out of his mind.

* * *

><p>"I never figured you for the 'burbs, Telly," Olympia says as she takes in his dull, cookie-cutter house.<p>

"You know this is just a spot to stay when I'm in town..." he tells her as if she should know better.

"Where's the wife and kids? Away in the Hamptons waiting for you to join them?"

"Are you enjoying yourself?" he smiles at her unfazed.

"No, actually, I'm not."

"I don't know what your beef is, Olympia, you shot me!" he says exasperatedly.

"I should have killed you."

"You are killing me—slowly and cruelly—for the last five years."

"What do you want from me, Telly?"

"I want you to give up the ghost, Olympia. You're not mad because I left you, you're mad because I came back."

"Well, if you know that..." she begins bitchily.

Telly rushes her and pins her against a wall with his body. "You love me, Olympia," he accuses her angrily. "You love me and I love you—we don't have to get married and I'm fine with that. But you were my friend; my partner in crime; my confidante; I know all of your secrets and you know all of mine. I know that giving in makes you feel like you're giving up control but you know I'm not that guy—I wouldn't want to control you even if could. We _understand_ each other, Pia. I'm happy that you have Cas back, but when he's done he's not going to need you like he does now; and you know Jax is going to have to get back to New York soon. What will you do with yourself then? I understand how you feel about them, but they won't need you to take care of them forever."

"Do you know where I'd be if Jax hadn't come for me? Taught me the business? Had me educated and trained? They'll always be there for me and I'll always be there for them. I owe them everything, Telly! They've done everything for me!"

"What are you doing for yourself, Pia?"

"I'm doing plenty for myself, thank you very much."

"Really? You mean your new recruits?" he harrumphs at her as he lets her go.

"What?"

"Which one are you fucking? I can smell another man on you from a mile away."

"How dare you!"

"You wouldn't be so mad if it wasn't true. Which one? Surfer boy or the one that looks like..." and then it hits him, "that looks like...Pollux...is Castor's son? Olympia?"

"Yes, it's Adam."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"We only just got him back into our lives, Telly, just over five months now. Between that and getting Castor healed..."

"Damn. Well, I'm so happy for you all," he beams at her. "God, this is great." His smile fades suddenly. "So, it's the other one, then. Admit it."

"Just once. I don't know what came over me..." she says, her voice full of guilt.

"You were lonely. For no good damn reason. Stop fighting me and let back me in, would you please?" he says as he drops to his knees before her. "I'm sorry about our baby, but it was nobody's fault, Pia—he wasn't punishing you, baby...God just wanted him back," he says softly into her belly as he hugs her tightly, his voice full of tormented pain. "I never stopped wanting you and fuck you if you think that me begging you to come back to me makes me a weak man," he says as he looks up at her. "You know that I'm not." Above him Olympia is crying silently. "Stop fighting me—stop fighting yourself."

Olympia drops to her knees before him and sinks into him as she sobs into his neck, holding him tightly to her.

"Can we do this again, baby? Please, will you come back to me?"

She nods yes to him through her sobs.

"I gotta hear this, Pia..." he says as he takes her face into his hands and looks into her eyes.

"Yes...yes, Telly..."

He kisses her forehead and pulls her back into his strong embrace.

* * *

><p>At three o'clock sharp the family meets in Castor's suite. All of them look and feel exhausted for one reason or another as a result of their separate activities from the night before and are silent as they laze about the room lost in their own thoughts. Ajax is the only one who seems alert and ready tackle the matters at hand with any enthusiasm.<p>

"Rough night, I see..." he says to no one in particular as he begins passing out dossiers on Doctors Sandrine Plenier and Jason Pressman.

Castor is stretched out on a couch unashamedly still dressed in his pajamas and staring up at the ceiling in a daze; Adam is at the opposite end attacking a cup of coffee while Jace sits in a leather wing chair showing no expression at all and betraying his joy at seeing Olympia safe and sound, giving no hint of the anxiety he feels wondering just what the hell had happened with her over the course of the night.

Olympia had slept exhaustedly beside Telly until the last possible minute before they rose to leave and get her back to the hotel. Not used to being forced to address her emotions and especially the ones she confronted with him over their baby, Olympia finds that she is mentally exhausted. She dares to cast a glance at Jace but does not linger; her heart goes out to him and his commendable effort to remain professional and stoic. She can see that he has learned very well already how to be the man that puts all of personal feelings aside and remain focused true to the task at hand, which is a quality, in their line of work, that could ultimately help to save his life. She is sorry that he has learned it from her and even sorrier that soon she will hurt him even more. Because it is necessary, she shoves all of her feelings aside, as well, and focuses on the dossiers in her hand.

"Sister dear..." says Castor groggily, "I had a call from Telly this morning..."

"Yes?"

"He wants to be your back-up in Marseilles. I think that's an excellent idea. I told him he has my blessing," Castor turns and looks pointedly at her with a huge smile on his face. She looks over at Jax who is clearly pleased, as well.

"Cas, no—absolutely not."

His smile fades. "Well, why not?"

"I don't think that we should both be jeopardized, not now..."

"This job is going to be a piece of cake, what are you talking about?"

"I just don't want to take any chances—he's the best, you said it yourself," she looks at Ajax. "We shouldn't risk such an important resource."

Castor casts and upside-down glare at his brother and looks a question. Ajax shrugs.

In his chair Jace is trying to figure out why she gives such a damn after the way she was acting the night before. He only stares straight ahead.

"Uh...well...hmm...we'll talk later—how about that?" he says to her.

"Sure, later."

"So...Adam..." he addresses his son.

"Yes, dad?"

"I understand you want this one?"

"Yes, dad."

"Okay. Do you have a plan already worked out?"

"Actually, I do," his son tells him with a confident smile. "Well, we do—Jace and I," he looks over at his friend.

"Cool! Let's hear it."


	19. On Notice

**A/N Face/Off is a fantastic movie written by Mike Werb and Michael Colleary and directed by John Woo**.

* * *

><p>I own absolutely nothing.<p>

Adam and Eve

Ch 19 On Notice

"Okay...and what else?"

"She she doesn't practice any longer but she does consulting work and guest lectures—we're waiting on the plans of her office building via secure fax right now," Jace informed Castor.

"Well, boys, I like it—what do you think, Jax?"

"A good plan, boys—you've really done your homework."

Beside his father Adam smirks. Jace had done the homework, locked away in his room all morning while he had entertained his perky little bachelorette party refugee.

"I can't take any of the credit—Jace did ninety-nine percent of the leg work, dad," Adam admits. Castor sits up finally and motions his son to move closer to him, which Adam does promptly. Castor smiles at his son and nods his head appreciatively. He reaches out suddenly and gives the young man a hard slap across the back of his head. Adam winces but dares not to say a word. From their respective vantage points Jax and Olympia smile knowingly. Jace registers no emotion at all.

"Son, I'm going to say this once," Castor begins menacingly, "you work hard, you play hard, you work harder. Notice the order of priority in that statement. I appreciate you owning up to the truth of the matter, but we all operate as a team and you don't let your team members down. EVER!" he shouts at him. "I may look like death warmed over but all three us..." he motions to Ajax and Olympia, "despite our very separate endeavors last night have been up all morning, supervising munitions shipments, organizing our teams in Miami and France and attending to various other matters of importance, and not just regarding this next job.

"Now," Castor's tone softens, "I'll be the first one to tell you that a happy dick is a truly wonderful thing, son, but there is no happiness when its attached to you, feeling the life drain from it—and more importantly, you—as you lie in a pool of your own blood as a result of some particular detail you failed to pay the proper attention to because_ it_ was calling the shots instead of your brain; it's even worse if it causes one of your team members, and by that I mean one of us, huh? Look at me..." he orders his son who has cast his eyes down to the floor in shame, "one of us or any other of our operatives to lose their lives. This is not a game, Adam." Father and son have a long moment of recognition. "Huh? We're not going to have this conversation again, are we?" Castor's last words are more of a statement than a question.

"No, sir," Adam affirms as he looks his father dead into his eyes, his own full of apology.

"Good. We're out of here tomorrow morning at five a.m. You and Jace get the fuck out of here and go handle your business; have yourselves a great evening and we'll see you both back here in the morning," Castor concludes sternly with an affectionate slap to Adam's cheek.

"Yes, sir," he says as he rises to go.

Jace rises immediately to leave with him. He wants desperately to talk to Olympia but has no idea how to make it happen. He leaves silently and gives a quick respectful nod to the each of the three of them as he passes on his way out.

When they are gone Castor directs his attention to his sister.

"Olympia, explain yourself," he asks her simply.

"Okay, yes, Telly and I have reconciled and I don't want to jinx it with a job together, especially so soon. That's it," she tells him firmly.

"Olympia, I've healed—some—and need time to do some more. We all know that I'm not half the man I used to be; we all know that there was a time I would have rounded all of those fuckers up in São Paulo myself and done more than just carve them up into nice little pieces of fish bait—it was the hardest of the four jobs and I had something to prove to myself and it's done, but this is it for me, honey. Now, we're going to be on the boys, and quite frankly, it's really falling on big bro here, to watch all of our backs—but he can't be everywhere at once. Even though this one should be a relative piece of cake I don't like to underestimate anything or anyone—I need somebody who cares about you as much as we do and that we trust to work with you on this—Telly fits that bill whether you'd reconciled with him or not. Period. This is non-negotiable, sis."

"Cas..." she begins to protest.

"Non-negotiable. When this is over I'm retiring and you are, too. I gave you a nephew—it's about time for you to return the favor. We need a little girl to spoil—better yet, a boy and a girl—and you can make that happen a whole lot more successfully if you're not running around the world endangering your own life. We're not going to have you go through that again..." he looks at Ajax who approaches his sister and hugs her when he sees her look away from Castor suddenly to hide her tears and try to compose herself.

"He's right, Olympia," he says softly. "We love you and appreciate all that you've done, but you've put your own life on hold long enough. Telly wants in and we want him there. He's coming—and he's waiting for you, right now. Go on."

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry, man," Adam tells his friend as they sit in Jace's suite.<p>

"Hey, I get what your dad said, but I'm cool," he tells him as he looks over Sandrine Plenier's dossier for the hundredth time. Adam is studying the floor plans of her office building.

"So, how did it go with Christina last night?" Adam asks of Jace's date the night before.

"Was that her name?"

"Whoa, really?" Adam laughs.

"What? I wasn't really in the mood—she left almost as soon as we got up here."

"Well, that sucks."

"Yeah, well, she gave it the old college try..." Jace joked wryly.

"What the fuck, man?"

Jace sighed deeply. "Nothing. I've just been in a bad mood."

"Well, that's what the hell she was supposed to be for."

"Let's just drop it, okay?"

"Okay, well, one more thing and I will—are we doing dinner together tonight at least?"

"Sure, man, but I'm gonna call it an early night after that, cool?"

"Cool," Adam smiles at his friend, "I'm going to get dressed—meet you in an hour?"

"Sure."

After Adam is gone Jace throws the dossier in his hand angrily on the coffee table and kicks it in frustration. He wonders where Olympia is and if they'll ever get another moment alone. Seconds later there is a knock on his door. He goes to answer it and finds Olympia standing there. The look on her face is resolute and causes him to hold back the smile he feels in his heart and effectively kills it before it can form on his own.

"Come on in."

"This is going to be quick," she assures him as she rushes past.

* * *

><p>"Are you kidding me, Ted?" Wanda Cho paces the floor of her office as she looks at the sketchy report in her hand, completely stunned. "Alive? Castor Troy is still alive?"<p>

"They're assuming, ma'am, there's no confirmation on his status right now," her assistant informs her calmly.

"All of these years he's been alive and almost six months ago he went missing—and we're just now hearing about it? Jesus..."

"Rotational elite units were assigned and classified to all hell... the facility was breached, the current team killed—Castor is missing. They've involved us now because of Dr. Eve Archer."

"Eve? What the hell does she have to do with any of this?"

"Dr. Archer signed off on Castor Troy's death certificate, ma'am—she knew that he was alive, but neither Sean or the Bureau here was informed about it. They want to question her, especially now that Adam Hassler has gone missing, as well."

"Fuck me," says Wanda as she goes to her chair and collapses heavily into it. "Wait a minute..."

"Yes?"

"Adam took off..." Wanda calculates the time in her head, "about five months ago...according to Eve he had been afraid someone was after him months before that..." she murmurs, completely baffled.

"I'm afraid there's more..." he says delicately.

"Of course," Wanda replies, her voice full of dread. "Well, spit it out."

"It involves one recently widowed woman named Angel Barranca—wife of renegade agent Arturo Barranca..."

"The one who went AWOL after Castor's recapture?"

"Yes. The wife just recently received his body for burial."

"What happened to him?"

"Executed in Brazil almost a month ago—his body was found on a street in the favela where his girlfriend lived—about two blocks away. The girlfriend was hard to track down but was found—she was home and found a place to hide the night two men came for Arturo; all she heard was 'Carandiru'. So of course, Barranca's background was checked for any perps he may have been responsible for sending there—none were found, but three interesting names came up: Aaron Billings, Prior Howard and Jude Tabor—all of them assigned as part of the first team to guard Castor Troy after the operation switching his and Sean's bodies back. They were released from that duty and reassigned to Carandiru three years later until the prison closed."

"And?"

"They stayed in São Paulo—fancied themselves as 'private contractors'—guns for hire for anyone with some money they wanted to unload for any bullshit reason—they've gone missing, also."

"How many teams were there?"

"Two: the first team headed up by the doctors Plenier, Pressman, Blansky and Boseman, the three previously mentioned guards, various medical technicians; in 2000 the guards were rotated out and the only doctor attendeding to Castor was Plenier. Six months ago she retired and Castor was just a vegetable on a gurney and a line item in a budget, most likely one to be cut in a cost-saving measure—or not—waiting on approval, one way or the other."

"I want a security detail posted on Eve Archer and at her house, 24/7; the same for Talia Burke—immediately—move!" she barks at her assistant.

"Yes ma'am, right away," he says before he hurries away.

Wanda takes a deep breath and dials the first of three numbers.


	20. Nothing Else To Say

**A/N Face/Off is a fantastic movie written by Mike Werb and Michael Colleary and directed by John Woo. **

* * *

><p>I own absolutely nothing.<p>

Adam and Eve

Ch 20 Nothing Else To Say

* * *

><p>"Hello?"<p>

"Jamie? Is that you? It's Wanda Cho..."

"Wanda? You want to talk to mom...you've heard something about Adam..." Jamie's voice drops to a dull monotone.

"Well actually, you saved me a call—I want to talk to you both, but I'd much rather discuss it with you both in person."

"Well, we're here—I'll let mom know you're on the way."

"I'm on my way already—see you both in ten minutes." Wanda rang off.

Eve Archer stepped into her kitchen to find her daughter leaning over the sink clutching the receiver of the house phone in her hand.

"Jamie, I heard the phone—honey? Honey, who was it?"

Jamie turns and faces her mother and Eve can see that all of the color has drained from her daughter's face. "It was Wanda, mom. She'll be here in ten minutes."

* * *

><p>Jace closes the door quietly behind her and stands with his back to it as he grips the door knob behind him with both hands; he leans his head back upon it as he watches and waits for her to speak.<p>

"Don't look at me that way—I told you that you didn't want to learn the lesson I had to teach you," she tells him angrily. Jace says nothing. "I think that you were able to figure out last night that Telly was someone important to me; once upon a time he was damn near my husband." Still Jace says nothing. "Okay, I get it. I'm not going to stand here and try to tell you what I think you're feeling because I just can't imagine what that could realistically be," she struggles to explain herself and begins to pace the floor in front of him. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen—not that I regret you, at all—but I didn't mean to make you feel..."

"Olympia, just shut up already," he says so softly that it makes her stop dead in her small tracks. "I didn't know anything last night; anything I thought I suspected went right out of the window when he started strong-arming you right in front of God and everybody. I'm just glad to know that you're alright. I don't know what it is about you but I'll be happy to tell you what I felt and what I feel and how I'm always going to feel. But I won't because I know you won't believe it and that you really don't want to hear it, anyway."

"Jace..."

"No, there's nothing else to say."

"He's on the team, Jace; he's coming to France with us; he knows about you and me," she tells him pragmatically.

"You told him, huh? He really is important to you."

"I didn't have to tell him, Jace."

"Yeah, well, you won't have any trouble from me—am I going to have any trouble from him?" he asks her angrily.

"It's not like that, Jace and nobody is being blamed for anything. He likes you..."

He shoots her a look of insult as he peels himself away from the door and walks past her to the wet bar to pour himself a shot of vodka.

"Jace..."

"Don't do that..." he warns her as he raises the shot glass in his hand and points his index finger at her in angry accusation, "I'd rather have him take punch at me than hear_ that _shit," he says disgustedly and then downs his drink.

"Jace, I..."

He refuses to let her get another word in edgewise. "I'm a big boy, Olympia—like I said before I'm just glad you're alright. Thanks for coming to let me know that. If you don't mind I was just about to get dressed. See you in the morning," he says through tight lips as he dismisses her.

Olympia nods her understanding at him and takes her leave.

* * *

><p>"Escaped..." Eve whispers to herself in shocked horror as she and her daughter sit next to each other across from Wanda Cho at her kitchen table; Wanda has just briefed them on what little she knows about Castor's escape and the situation in Brazil. "I don't know why I'm surprised, or anyone else, actually—he did it before—it was just a matter of time."<p>

"Eve, why did they keep him alive after the transfer?" Wanda asks her quietly.

"The ones in charge would probably give you some cock and bull story about studying his brain for scientific purposes, I suppose; I have no Godly idea why anyone would want to keep that maniac alive for any reason, Wanda. They certainly didn't give me any specifics, I was just handy in regards to signing off on the death certificate. No one was supposed to know about Dr. Walsh's medical breakthrough, it was totally top secret. We were lucky Walsh had any notes to retrieve at all for the new team work with, because Castor and his goons completely destroyed the original facility when he escaped the first time around."

"Who had them?"

"There were copies on file with the top brass in D. C. But the world had to be told that Castor was dead, and quite frankly, had he been the transfer would not have worked, not from dead tissue."

"So you signed off just doing the necessary damage control to help them ease the public consciousness?"

"Correct."

"You had absolutely no knowledge of their plans for Castor Troy otherwise?"

"No, I didn't."

"And Sean was never told?"

"No."

"Why was that decision made, Eve, do you know?"

"The Director of the Bureau told me himself that he wanted it to be over between Sean and Castor, once and for all. I was in agreement."

Wanda puts her elbows on the table and closes her eyes as she begins to try and massage away the beginning of a headache.

"Can I get you something, Wanda? Coffee? Anything?" Jamie asks as she notes her stress.

"Thank you, no," she says as she looks up at them both. "We can't figure out who's helping him this time around...most of Castor's trusted colleagues were killed in '97; the few that survived are all still in high security prison's across the country—none of them were incarcerated together and there were only a handful of them, anyway. Whoever busted him out this time was part of a highly organized team that not only breached a top secret facility, but had to infiltrate the Bureau to get the plans to that facility; we have absolutely no clue. Add to that the mysterious communications you say that Adam began receiving approximately a year before Castor was sprung. Enemies? Allies? We have know way of knowing at this point, but I'm sure that if we could find Adam..."

"Wait a minute," Jamie says incredulously, "you think Adam had some part in that? He was scared out of his mind, Wanda; he left here thinking that doing so would protect us from harm..."

"That's not what I'm saying at all, Jamie. Frankly, Castor had way more enemies than allies, so I'm really more afraid that Adam truly is in danger, wherever he may be. Neither of you have heard anything from him?"

"Nothing, Wanda—Talia, either, as far as I know," Jamie informs her.

"You still talking to her?" Eve asks her daughter irritatedly.

"Of course I am, mother...please don't go there, not now..." Jamie snaps at her mother angrily. "Have you talked to her yet, Wanda?"

"No, I came here first. I would have preferred talking to the three of you together, especially after I found out you were here, Jamie, but..."

"Yeah, 'but'...Wanda, I'd like to go with you to see her—may I?"

"Of course and thank you. As a matter of fact, we can go on there now. I find it incredible that Adam has fallen so completely off the grid—but with what we've just learned about Castor Troy I'm fairly confident that something will break in this case soon. We've got agents in Brazil as we speak, running a fine toothed comb over the home of the dead ex-agent's girlfriend and the entire neighborhood they lived in. The three ex-guards were well-known in the area—and are not terribly missed; that should make it easier to get information now that they aren't on the loose still terrorizing people. That's what we're hoping, anyway. You know that I'll keep you posted." Wanda rises to leave.

"Jamie, must you leave me now? I thought you came back here to be with me," Eve says tersely.

"I did, mother, but I love Talia, too."

"Eve, I won't keep Jamie long—I'm sure Mrs. Burke has no information, but I have to let her know about this...I've also got security on you—at home and at work..."

"I certainly understand, Wanda. Thanks for everything."

"Don't thank me, Eve, I haven't done anything, yet. I pray that changes real soon. Try to keep it together, okay?" Wanda gives her a warm hug.

"That's a tall order these days...I'll try."

Jamie gives her mother an awkward hug goodbye and then leaves with Wanda.

Eve sits back down at the kitchen table and stares vacantly into space.

* * *

><p>"So, man—you ready to make your bones?" Adam asks his friend over dinner later that evening.<p>

"Very. And you?"

"As ready as I'm ever going to be. So, you're really not hanging out tonight?"

"Yeah, I am—just not out here with you," Jace says as he winks at their waitress who is approaching with a dessert tray and then smiles at Adam.

"Oh, going with a professional tonight? Sweet. I like them a little older, too."

"Outgrown cheerleaders, have you?"

Adam laughs out loud. "After last night? For good," he says as he thinks back to the talky, immature girl he had been with the night before. After his one time with Jamie being with girls his own age had never really been quite the same again. He knew for a fact that the club only hired the most exquisite women between the ages of twenty-one and thirty and he was sorry he had strayed from the menu the night before. Adam eyes the raven-haired, leggy Eurasian babe coming closer, who is a vision in a purple metallic front-tying halter, matching pleated ultra mini skirt and silver fuck-me pumps, with great appreciation; he looks over at a pretty girl at the next table who has been eye-fucking him all throughout dinner and smiles politely at her knowing that he will follow the same course as his friend.

"Gentlemen, would you like dessert?" she smiles at them both when she reaches them.

"Yes, I would," Jace informs her as he pays the dinner bill. "I would like a generous helping of you, in private, right now." He slides her his extra room key which sits atop three neatly folded thousand dollar bills. "Are you free?"

"Of course."

"Great. Meet me in ten."

"Of course."

"See you in the morning, man," he says to Adam then as he gets up to leave.

"Can I get you anything else before I go, sir?" she smiles at Adam.

"You sure can—your lovely friend in blue—in the see-through mini dress-thingy with the fringe—would you kindly send her over?"

"That's Lydia...my pleasure."

Adam hands her a thousand dollar bill for her trouble.

"Thank you, sir."

"_My_ pleasure," he smiles at her.

* * *

><p>Jace sits up on his bed awaiting his guest. He hears her enter the door and close it lightly; the carpet is plush so he does not hear another sound until the melodic clink of ice meeting glass greets his ears; next the sound of liquor swishing in a bottle, the delicate scrape of tin against the grooved glass bottle lip as she twists off the cap and then pours; the sound of another bottle being opened as he realizes that whatever her particular poison is requires more liquid company. He finds her little detour at the bar seductive as he waits in anticipation, intoxicated already by her calm and unhurried manner. When she appears before him finally she is holding two glasses.<p>

"Hi," she says with a devilish little smile.

"Hi, yourself." Jace does not smile back.

"I took the liberty—Black Russian?" she holds out a glass for him.

"Yes, thank you."

She walks over to him and sits delicately beside him on the edge of the bed and hands him his drink. He takes a sip.

"Excellent. Thank you."

She takes in a generous helping of her own drink, never taking her beautiful brown almond-shaped eyes off of him.

"Am I that ugly that you have get drunk before you fuck me?"

She narrows her eyes and gives him a mildly scolding look. "You know better than that." She takes his drink and sets it and hers on the bedside night table; she turns back to him and locks her eyes on his then begins to unbutton his dress shirt. Jace shows no emotion on his face but greatly relishes her soft, reverent touch.

"You don't like to talk...that's fine," she coos at him.

"I'm paying you for it to be fine," he says cruelly. The woman registers no slight or insult at all, only smiles.

"True. A woman just likes to know she's having some effect on a man, that's all," she says softly.

"Here's evidence of your 'effect'..." he says almost angrily as he unzips his pants slowly and introduces her to the raging beast that has been clamoring for release ever since she came into his room.

"I'm a lucky girl..." she leans down and gives him a sultry, enthusiastic kiss.

"Look, I like you," he murmurs at her when their lips part, "I'll like you a whole lot better if you stop talking..." he grabs her by the neck and pulls her roughly into him for another slow, languid kiss.

She smiles after he releases her. As she rises from him she sensuously pantomimes locking her mouth shut and tossing away the key, then brings her finger back to her lips and caresses them softly; with her other hand she takes hold of one of his and guides a finger to take her lips over, biting and sucking gingerly on it in preview of what is to come; her hands return to the well-muscled playground beneath his shirt and Jace allows himself to get lost in her soft, exquisite touch again and then realizes that she is happily heading towards the prize in his pants with her mouth.

"Not yet..." he says as he pushes her away and stands up to remove all of his clothes. She quietly and eagerly assists him. She begins to remove her halter top. "Not yet..." His tone is a reprimand, but on his face is a crooked little smile. "Just your g-string," he orders her. As soon as she removes it he advances on her, walking her backward toward the panoramic window; he kisses her savagely then turns her around roughly and pushes her against it, places her hands on the glass then spreads her legs apart.

To the best of his ability he concentrates on nothing, then: not on what tomorrow will hold; not on his past; not on Olympia, whom he must not only obliterate from his mind but his heart, as well. He concentrates then on nothing except his pleasure and that of the beauty before him.


	21. One Of Us

**A/N Face/Off is a fantastic movie written by Mike Werb and Michael Colleary and directed by John Woo. **

* * *

><p>I own absolutely nothing.<p>

Adam and Eve

Ch 21 One Of Us

At four a.m. Adam and Jace were both up, dressed, packed and waiting in Adam's room to be summoned by Castor.

"So...did you get any sleep, dude?" Adam asks his buddy.

"Come on, man—do I not look like a zombie?" says Jace, who is sitting at the wet bar working on a second cup of coffee. "I had a thirty minute nap after she left and was right back up again to get ready. She was worth it, though. And I don't have any problem sleeping on planes."

"I hear you. I repacked before dinner last night—let's just say I _really_ enjoyed my shower this morning," Adam grins at his friend conspiratorially.

"Did you get any sleep?"

"Not a wink."

Both of them laugh out loud as they shake their heads at each other. Just then Adam's cell phone rings.

"Good morning...yes ma'am." Adam rises to go. "That was aunt Olympia—they're ready for us..."

* * *

><p>When they arrive at Castor's suite it is Telly who opens the door for them. Jace sees Castor, Olympia and Ajax in conference at the full bar, each holding a cup of steaming coffee and talking amongst each other quietly. Castor and Ajax look as dapper as usual in their fine Italian suits, but Olympia is a vision and a lesson in simple elegance in her stunning long-sleeved cowl neck burgundy sweater dress that stops to hug the top of her knees; the nude patent leather stiletto wedge-heeled shoes set off her long, shapely legs exquisitely and sends Jace's pulse racing. Her full long, black hair caresses her shoulders seductively and Jace remembers his hands running through the soft silkiness of it, just a few short nights ago, that at that moment feels like a cruel figment of his imagination. He forces himself to look beyond her and everything else in the room as her man ushers them inside.<p>

"There they are!" Castor turns to greet Adam and Jace. "Good morning, troops—come on over here, you handsome motherfuckers..." he smiles at them as he waves them over proudly. When the two young men reach him he embraces them both and gives each a kiss to the cheek. "I'm diggin' the ponytail, Jace—very retro, very hip with that suit...very hip. And you..." he turns to Adam and is momentarily speechless.

Castor chokes up as a tear comes to his eye; he looks at the man before him and sees his beloved Pollux. Like a drowning man his life flashes before his eyes and he sees Pollux as a boy, playing on the schoolyard as Castor stops him to tie his undone shoelaces; Pollux on the day they met Lillian for the first time; Pollux screaming her name as Panos dragged them both away from her house that warm December night; Pollux, Castor and Ajax at the beach that fine summer day in 1974; Pollux at seventeen, getting his hands on some C-4 for the first time; Pollux in his detainment cell at Erehwon and the look on his face as he looked at Sean Archer and realized that it was really Cas; Pollux crashing to his death at the hand of Sean Archer; Castor tying his brother's unfastened shoelace for the last time.

Castor focuses his eyes through his tears and he sees his son again and is still too overcome to speak. He grabs his son and brings into a silent, strong embrace. Adam hugs him back, feeling helpless under the burden of his father's pain.

"Dad..." Adam is choking back his own tears.

"I'm...okay, son. It's just that you're the spitting image...I loved him so much..." Castor's voice is almost an inaudible whisper.

The others in the room all register varying degrees of heartbreak as they look upon the two men.

"I know, dad—I'm so sorry."

"I just wish you'd met him, son." Castor breaks away and tries comport himself; he squeezes his eyes shut tightly and gives a shake of his head as if he's silently berating himself then lets out a long sigh. "Alright, alright—I'm focused..." he says to himself; he rolls his eyes hard and then looks back at his son and smiles. "You look good, son...damn good. Give me some news."

"Dr. Plenier has been on the lecture circuit this past week...her last one is this coming Tuesday...ten a.m. at the University of the Mediterranean."

"Good. That gives Olympia and Telly some time to train you both on a few new weapons when we get there...right, sis?"

"Yes, Cas," she nods at him.

"And, uh, I know this room is full of the most handsome men on the planet but look at her, would ya?" Castor goes to his sister and gives her a loving kiss on her forehead. "Est-elle magnifique or fuckin' what? Huh?" he looks around the room for confirmation and sees it in one form or other from each man except Jace, who has turned his back to them and busies himself at the bar pouring a cup of coffee that he has absolutely no desire for. Telly walks over to join him and Jace bristles inwardly.

"Aunt Olympia you look beautiful without your shitkickers on," Adam ribs her.

"Yeah? Well, don't get to used to this," she smiles back at him.

Castor, Ajax and Olympia conversate with Adam as Telly looks on silently.

"Turn around, Jace," Telly orders him authoritatively. Jace rolls his eyes up at the ceiling and groans audibly but does as he's told.

"They just have a way of getting under your skin, don't they?" Telly says quietly as they both look at the happy foursome across the room. "You're a tall, cool drink of water, man; I like that about you. I know there's a lot of shit you don't want to hear from me right now, but look at them: they may be a lot of things—good and bad—but first and foremost they're a family. Cas always says there's a special place in hell for him and that he knows it. Well, that may be, but he loves his family. We're his family, too, Jace—you wouldn't be here if you weren't one of us.

"Bottom line: I've known this family a lot of years and they've always had my back. I would die for any one of them. I want you to know that I have your back, as well...and I hope that, if it ever comes down to it, you'll have mine. Your demeanor will serve you well in this line of business, Jace, but don't dial yourself back so much that you cut yourself off from the love here, man. Or anywhere else that you may be blessed to find it. Don't punish her; don't punish yourself." Telly leaves him to join the others.

The two men never looked at each other as Telly spoke to him. Jace turns back around and stares solemnly into his coffee cup then, knowing that if he looks anywhere else he'll only see his heart continuing to break. A myriad of emotions wash over him; he is surprised to find that as much as wants to hate Telly, he can not. He becomes aware of the conversation across the room and struggles to concentrate on what's being said.

"Well, did you two get some rest last night?" Ajax asks them both then, a knowing smirk on his face.

"Let's just say we're looking forward to some major nap time on the plane, right Jace?" Adam calls over to him.

Jace turns to his friend, stone-faced. "Yeah...major nap time." All of the other men laugh heartily; Olympia smiles politely.

"Well, try to stay awake for breakfast on the plane, huh?" she says to them all as she goes to the coat rack in the corner by the door and slips on a short, bright red double-breasted translucent patent leather trench coat. "Let's go," she orders them all as she heads for the door.


	22. Sandrine

**A/N Face/Off is a fantastic movie written by Mike Werb and Michael Colleary and directed by John Woo. **

* * *

><p><strong>I own absolutely nothing.<strong>

Adam and Eve

Ch 22 Sandrine

Eighteen hours later the group has landed in Marseille, cleared customs with their fake passports and are settling in to their converted warehouse digs located in Les Docks de Marseille.

"Thank you, Telly—nice job..." Castor says as he walks through the sumptuously appointed apartment eyeballing it appreciatively. "Where's the range?"

"Down the corridor to the left and downstairs," Telly smiles at him.

"Come, my unhappy little vampires—one should never be too tired to get a little training in..." he says to Adam and Jace. "And it's the best way I know to combat jet lag," Castor laughs wildly at his crew. "Olympia, darling?"

"Yes, Cas?" she smiles sweetly at him.

"I understand that we have a date with some exquisite new tranquilizer guns—is that right?"

She nods at him.

"Lead the way, lovely," he says as he holds out his arm to her.

* * *

><p>While Telly and Olympia train Adam and Jace on the use their newly acquired weapons Castor dons his earplugs, earmuffs and goggles and goes right for an XM2010 Enhanced Sniper Rifle. Olympia directs her attention his way.<p>

"Cas!"

Castor is looking through the scope and answers her calmly. "Yes, little sister?"

"You know better. You're welcomed to use it in the field, but if you want to practice with it you'll have to wait until we get to our Florida base—there's a proper outdoor range to practice on there..."

"Nag, nag, nag...I know that...and I know how to use it already..." he turns and aims at her, still looking through the scope and squinting his other eye.

"And I know that." She puts her hands on her hips and bravely stares him down. Ajax and Telly pay them no mind but Adam and Jace are visibly uncomfortable as they watch the pair square off.

"Bang-bang, baby..." Castor says as he aims just a hair to her left and pulls the trigger. Even though both young men are looking directly at him their expectation is to hear the weapon discharge; they both jump even as they realize that all they've actually heard is the forceful snap the right-side chassis being shut. Then next sound they hear are the siblings laughing as Castor lowers the rifle.

"Alright, let's get back to work..." she says to Jace and Adam.

Throughout their training session Jace keeps a check on himself and makes sure not to let his eyes linger too long as he watches Olympia handle the weapons in her sexy dress and instruct them on the uses of the various forms of tranquilizers that can be used in any given situation. It is an exercise in the self control of his private parts and he manages quell his desire enough to concentrate on what she's saying and stay focused. He notes that Olympia and Telly keep it professional and are in a mode with one another that is almost detached and clinical; he can tell that it has nothing at all to do with him and can see that their business-like demeanor is most likely a necessary discipline born from and reinforced by many years of practice that fits them both like a second skin. He admires the man more even in his jealousy. He imagines the heat factor that must surely crank up to nuclear levels in their private time together and forces himself to swallow the bitter pill of reality and his loss.

Finally, after almost three hours, they are released.

"Good going, guys...go on up and get some rest before dinner tonight. We'll discuss particulars then on breaching her office tomorrow night and whatnot—I'd like to get the bitch over and done with by Tuesday night, hit Paris on Wednesday and be in Florida by Friday, capisci?"

Adam and Jace nod their understanding at him.

"Olympia, honey, show them their rooms and then come on back—the four of us need to discuss a few things, huh?"

"Of course, Cas, be right back."

Standing next to Ajax, Telly gives Olympia a look that she totally ignores as she escorts her tired charges up the stairs and out of the range.

Following behind her and Adam, Jace has the first opportunity to drink in her magnificence without being under the scrutiny of the others. In her sexy heels she is as tall as he is; while he appreciates the illusion and the extra sway of her hips the stilettos cause, he thinks about the other night when he stood above her looking down into her beautiful face as he possessed her and wishes he could do so again. Her short dress is tasteful, but sinful to him, as it hugs every voluptuous curve on her body and for that small moment he allows himself to eat her up with his eyes and strip her naked in his mind, totally helpless not to indulge himself. Too soon they are standing outside of their rooms which are directly across the hall from each other.

"Well, here you are..." she gives Adam a chaste kiss on the cheek. "Get some rest...see you both at dinner." Without hesitation and betraying the awkwardness she actually feels she kisses Jace in the same motherly manner, behaving the way she had done before they had allowed themselves to experience each other. Betraying his own raging desire Jace endures her lips on his cheek and smiles at her warmly, unaware of what entity it is that has snatched him out of his body and entered it to become responsible for his autonomous detached response to her.

She turns and leaves them.

"See you in a few, man," Adam says as he yawns and then disappears behind his door as he closes it lightly.

Jace looks down the hall then and sees that Olympia has taken off her shoes and shrunken four inches to her normal height. As she pads away with her shoes in her hand his true self returns with the forcefulness of a bomb blast, in collusion again with the tangible evidence of his desire raging in his trousers; he leans against the wall as if he's taken a hit. He watches her until she disappears around the corner that leads back to the stairs. He wants release but he also finds the torture of wallowing in the reality that there will absolutely be no release necessary. He vows to himself that the only knob he will touch that night is the one on the door to his room.

Inside his room Adam is already out, overtaken by sleep as soon as his head hit his pillow.

Inside his room Jace has stripped down and lies naked on his bed, exhausted but far from able to sleep. He watches his dick twitch and jump, as if it is looking for help and he smirks to himself as he looks away and stares up at the ceiling; he is determined to let the beast rage on and come to whatever conclusion it must on it's own and without his aid.

* * *

><p>The trip to Plenier's office in the Centre Bourse on Monday night is a disappointing cakewalk.<p>

"Nothing here..." Adam says into the transmitter of his headpiece.

"We thought as much. But keep checking—be thorough," Castor instructs them.

"Yes sir," Adam says as he and Jace continue to ransack the office.

* * *

><p>When they return to their digs at Les Docks the group conferences in the billiard room.<p>

"Well, I'm sorry you boys didn't get to kill anyone, but I assure that Florida will be a different beast entirely," Castor tells them as he prepares to take his shot in his game against Ajax.

"You don't think she might have any documents at her home, Uncle Castor?" Jace asks him.

"We had a team do that before we got here—a more delicate operation with her family in residence—nothing was found. That's why we left her office for the two for you to cut your teeth on," Ajax smiled at him as he watched Castor continue to eye his impossible shot on the table.

"Yeah, it appears our fair lady just kicked my ass to the curb once she got outta there, huh?" Castor starts to laugh to himself. "That's okay, though—she's gonna make it up to me...alright, bro...hitting the cue ball and trying not to scratch..." he says quietly and takes his shot. He makes his shot as Ajax groans loudly in frustration.

"What? What just happened?" Adam asks his aunt Olympia quietly.

"Uncle Castor just snookered uncle Ajax," Jace answers him before she gets a chance. Everyone in the room looks at him and smiles.

"You know how to play, dude?" Castor asks him.

"Un poco..." Jace smiles at him.

"Your ass is in the next game..." Castor challenges him.

* * *

><p>Sandrine Ricard Plenier had always lived a charmed life. Even as a young girl working with her parents in their vineyard she knew that helping to run the family business would not be her particular destiny, much to the chagrin of her father. But she had four younger brothers and sisters all chomping at the bit to do exactly that. Even though his heart was broken and his disappointment was great, when she went off to university to major in medicine she had the blessings of both of her proud parents.<p>

She had graduated from the RWTH Aachen University in Germany and then gone on to an illustrious career after her internship and residency as a fellow at the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota. She had been at the top of her field in neuropathology when the FBI approached her to assist the emergency team assembled to restore Castor Troy and Sean Archer to their rightful bodies. She had been the last doctor left to attend to Castor before she was relieved of her duty six months prior to Castor's rescue. It was then that she decided to retire and return to France.

At the request of a colleague she had just begun to participate in a series of guest lectures at various universities around France and was enjoying herself immensely. She was still an attractive woman; svelte and tall, with captivating deeply-set green eyes; her long, dark curly hair she kept swept up, usually, in messy bun as soft wayward tendrils escaped it to frame her face, as lovely as that of a Botticelli angel. Her few strands of grey hair and even fewer delicate wrinkles about her eyes were the only evidence that she might be over forty and certainly not her actual fifty-seven years. She wore even those with pride. She was still more than capable of turning the heads of men thirty years her junior and not just medical students looking for bragging rights or an easy way to obtain a letter of recommendation. Many of her favorite young men had been met at the Opera, her home away from home.

She had always been discreet but very definite about her pleasure and it was not a situation that had changed at all over the years. She was unashamed of her libido or her fetish for sex with strangers, especially young handsome strangers. She had never felt the desire to be married or have children—her siblings had that territory more than covered. She indulged herself as she had all of her life and would do so until forces of nature dictated otherwise.

Castor and Ajax had a very definite purpose in setting Adam and Jace loose in Las Vegas. They figured that they'd had some experience with girls, maybe even some real women, but they needed to be sure that they could carry off the swagger necessary for approaching and bedding a woman like Sandrine Plenier. They had all read the dossier on her and when Adam and Jace came up with their plan it was the obvious one. But the Elder Troy's needed to be assured that they could pull it off. The way that they had handled themselves on the first trip, and especially the second, confirmed that they were indeed mature enough to perform the job successfully.

So when the two young American male students sit in the audience after her lecture and wait for her to finish speaking with other students and colleagues Sandrine notices them out of the corner of her eye. When they finally approach their target she peers over her glasses from the podium high above them and gives them a thorough once over, determining quickly that she will greatly enjoy fucking them. She waits for one of them to speak.

"Dr. Plenier, that was a fabulous lecture," Adam says as he smiles up at her. He looks just dapper enough in well-fitting Levi's and brown Bikkemberg hiking boots; his crisp white European-cut dress shirt, unbuttoned just so, hugs his long, lean torso tantalizingly and is further adorned with a fine, well-worn in leather rucksack instead of a jacket. Jace is decidedly very retro in a vintage yellow short-sleeved 'Mr. Zog's Sex Wax' t-shirt layered over a long-sleeved white one and a light blue knit beanie corralling his curly gold locks. She can't tell what he looks like underneath all of his layers or his light blue Diesel jeans, the bottoms of which sit atop black leather Chuck Taylors.

"Let me guess—neither one of you gives a damn about the prevalence of herniation and intracranial shift on cranial tomography in patients with subarachnoid hemorrhage and a normal neurologic examination—am I right?"

"Oh, we give a damn—as long as our parents keep paying for us to," Jace tells her matter-of-factly.

She shakes her head at them as if they are the naughtiest boys on earth. "Such typical Americans. How may I help you two handsome under-achievers today?"

"Well, for starters, we'd love it if you would accompany us to the Opera this evening and then see where the night takes us," Adam informs her with a sly, sexy smile.

Sandrine is immediately and pleasantly intrigued and gives them a playful smile from one corner of her generous mouth.

"I can do that."

* * *

><p>When Sandrine meets her two new friends outside of the Opera she finds them easily as they stand awash in the golden glow of the street. She can see that they are not strangers to culture or the finest things that money can buy as she admires their fine designer tuxedos, tailored in a stylish fashion that befits their youthfulness. She is pleasantly surprised by the shock of long wavy golden hair on surfer boy; his striking comrade is just as stunning with his shorter burnished golden hair who levels his roguish close-toothed smile at her as well as a challenge from his twinkling hazel eyes.<p>

What the two young men see is a vision of timeless beauty, beginning with her grey-streaked hair, which is pulled into an amazing Grecian goddess bun, set off fabulously with long dangling ruby and diamond earrings further culminating in her elegantly shirred, off-the-shoulder, long-sleeved black gown. A diamond-pinned vertical bow, situated classically just under her right breast extends to the top of her shapely hips; the right-side slit of her dress, which begins just below her knee, showcases one alluring leg and her simple but sexy ankle strapped black Givenchy stiletto sandals.

She sees the approval in their eyes as they approach her and then each offer her an arm as they escort her into the Opera House.

* * *

><p>Two hours later, in the back of their limousine, the two men lavish their attentions upon her as they are spirited off into the night. She loses herself in the feel of them both and sheds all of her inhibitions which have been held hostage by the proprieties necessary of a public environment. Within moments they are all clothed only in raw desire as their naked bodies connect with each other hungrily. They are all just on the precipice of climax when the limo stops at its intended destination. As they all lay spent, Sandrine cradled between them, she is flush with excitement and ready for more. She wants to speak to them and she realizes then that she doesn't know their names. Typically, she doesn't ever want to know their names but something about these two has touched her in more that just the obvious manner. The long-haired blonde had been rough and punishing while the other had been so sweet and reverent; yet both of them had just a spark of equal vulnerability that made her want to know them. The long-haired one pushes her away from him suddenly in a manner that she takes at first to be playful and retrieves her gown from the floor of the car.<p>

"Get dressed," he orders her gruffly as he thrusts it at her then proceeds to do the same.

Not quite sure why, Sandrine finds his distant, dismissive manner bruising to her usually unbruisable feelings. The other one takes note of her discomfort and calls her name as he reaches up and fondles an erect nipple to bring her back to his attention.

"Sandrine? Hey...don't mind him..." he suckles her other nipple and sends her into a swoon. "C'mon, get dressed—we have more for you..." he smiles up at her. He sits up then and helps her into her dress. The other one had put on his trousers only and is out of the car when she realizes that she is at the port.

"What are we doing here? You two live here?" The tender one only smiles at her as he slips on his pants. He puts on his shoes, gets out of the limo and then holds his hand out to her.

"Come on..."

She takes his hand and allows herself to be led away barefoot on the cool concrete as they approach the corrugated steel door of a warehouse, which the other is already rolling up on the pull chain. He jumps on the platform and then holds out his hand to her as the other puts his hands about her waist and lifts her up to meet him. When they are all up on the platform she hears the voice of another man call her name.

"Doctor Sandrine Ricard Plenier...hello, beautiful."

Sandrine turns to face him as she hears the corrugated door come crashing down; although she does not recognize the distinguished gentleman heading for her she knows that before the sun rises she will be a dead woman.

"Yes, I see that you don't recognize me, well, that's because you never saw me all healthy and vibrant, dear..." Castor says as he approaches her. "Believe me, if you had you would have had me chained up to a bed for a completely different reason..." he tells her in a soft whisper when he reaches her. He grabs a handful of the warm wetness between her legs suddenly, as she lets out a terrified shriek. "You wanted more, I see."

Sandrine recoils from him fearing what's coming next.

"Don't worry," he drawls at her, "I'm not that sort. Do you remember me now?"

"Cas...Cas...Cast..." she stutters fearfully.

"Take a deep breath, dear...good. Yes, Cas...Cas...CASTOR TROY!" he yells at her.

"How?" she manages to ask him in a choked whisper.

"Well, dear, 'how' is not the important question here. I think what you should really be concentrating on is _why_—don't you think? But you don't really need me to explain it to you, do you?"

"Revenge," she manages.

"Okay," he smiles crazily, "maybe a little bit...but it's really more about closure, Sandrine." Castor removes his hand from her crotch, rears back with it and gives her pussy a hard smack. "You've been a very bad girl, Sandrine."

Sandrine jumps from the shock and perversion of his assault and begins to cry in humiliation under the scrutiny of the all of the men in the room, one of which sits in a chair across the room eying her with great contempt.

"Who are all of the rest of you? What are you going to do to me?"

"Oh, come on," he angrily chastises her, "the first question was good, but the second—don't be stupid!" he rails at her. "You've met my son and his friend...that fine gentleman over there is my brother. I'd tell you their names but I understand that names are really not all that important to you." Castor walks behind her then and zips up her gown.

"Brother?" she asks him incredulously. "Your brother is dead..."

"Well, thank God I have another one, bitch. Now come on over here, you old cunt—I have a nice little plastic pallet all set up for you," he says as he gives her a hard nudge at the small of her back and forces her to walk forward.

"Oh, come on now," Castor says soothingly as he forces her to kneel down before him on top of the plastic sheeting, "most people only get a crappy meal before they die...in spite of everything you did to me I gave you a parting gift, honey..." he says as he smiles over at Adam and Jace, "a mighty fine parting gift—you enjoyed yourself, didn't you?"

Sandrine can only cry. She can see from the corner of her eye that the surfer has no feeling for her at all as he waits for Castor to dispense with her, his arms crossed over his still shirtless chest as he leans against a wall. The handsome beast with the dark hair in the chair just glowers at her menacingly when she notices a gun in his hand; he raises it slowly to his chin to scratch an itch there with the muzzle, then rests it on his knee, still within his grip and pointed at her. She looks to the tender one hoping to see some glimmer of compassion for her, some vestige of his sweetness that she experienced just moments before and finds none. She had only been a victim, the target of a cruel ruse and she had fallen for their lies hook, line and sinker.

Castor unpins her hair and watches her curly locks tumble down freely about her lovely neck and shoulders. She sits in total subjugation before him as his manhood jerks and twitches in his trousers mere inches away from her face. He reaches a hand down to caress her cheek.

"Such a waste, really...a few good years still ahead for this exquisite mouth...that warm, inviting pussy..."

Mesmerized by his cruel words and sure that she is about to be brutalized Sandrine doesn't notice the brass-handled wire garrote in his hand; Castor slips it around her neck, gives her a sweet kiss upon the lips and then chokes her so hard that he nearly decapitates her. He releases her and lets her lifeless body fall to the ground.

"Well...c'mon, gents—we've got fish to feed," he says to the other men in the room with a big grin on his face.


	23. A Little Mercy

**A/N Face/Off is a fantastic movie written by Mike Werb and Michael Colleary and directed by John Woo. **

* * *

><p>I own absolutely nothing.<p>

Adam and Eve

Ch 23 A Little Mercy

"Wanda, I just got something interesting over the wire from Interpol..." says Ted Bauer as he continues to pore over the report in his hand.

"What have you got?" She walks over to him and takes the report from him. "Missing person report...why does this name sound familiar? Sandrine Ricard Plenier?"

"She was the last attending physician to Castor Troy before the detail that was killed, remember?"

"Says here she's a big cougar freak-mama...likes 'em two at a time...good-looking woman, for an old broad..." she muses as she checks out the accompanying photos. "Even in these lousy file photos she's hot..."

"Well, she is French," Ted winks at her.

"Do we have anybody overseas right now?"

"Campbell and Dunn are in Amsterdam—working on extradition papers for their perp..."

"Get one of them on the phone, would you?"

"Sure, Boss..."

* * *

><p>On the flight from Paris to Maryland Olympia notices a very marked change in Adam and Jace. They are both sullen and quiet; Jace sleeps through most of the long flight back waking only long enough to hydrate with a bottle of water several times and take restroom breaks. Adam just stares out of his window. She also notices that her brothers are keeping silent tabs on them and a low profile, as well.<p>

"It must have been pretty bad—it wasn't even their kill," she remarks to Telly in a hushed voice when the rare moment comes that all four of them sre asleep at the same time.

"It's always a little rough when you kill a woman. And if I know Cas—which I do—I'm sure it was...jarring to their innocent sensibilities, Pia. They're not innocents anymore," Telly whispers back at her.

"We tried to tell them...I'll just be glad when this is all over."

"Well, Blansky should be pretty easy—she can be done during the layover, she's so easy," Telly says.

"Yeah, well, maybe they should sit that one out, then."

"Yeah? Well, maybe you should be having this conversation with Cas, then," Telly shoots back at her along with a knowing look and then a quick kiss to her cheek.

Olympia groans her agreement at him.

An hour later Castor wakes up from his nap and signals their hostess. A stunning young brunette heads his way with a bright smile.

"Yes, sir?"

"Honey, I'm a little dry—I would absolutely adore some Dewar's, right about now—neat—yeah?" he smiles up at her.

"Right away, sir."

Castor looks over at his sister, who is catercorner from him across the aisle, and smiles at her as he crooks a finger her way and then pats the empty seat next to him.

"Looks like you're on, baby..." Telly says as he gives a kiss goodbye to the back of her hand. She rises to make the short step across the aisle and Castor gets up to let her in beside him as Ajax gives her a warm smile.

"Alright, Mother Hen, what's on your mind?" he asks her after she is settled in her seat.

"We've both noted your dis-ease, Olympia—spit it out," Ajax orders from his seat across from her.

"What the hell happened with the doctor? The boys looked positively freaked," she says of the two sleeping four rows behind them.

"As well they should be, sis." The hostess comes back with Castor's drink. "Thank you, honey."

"Can I get either of you anything?" She smiles at Olympia and Ajax, who both decline. She leaves them to see about Telly.

"What happened, sis, was an education," Castor begins, speaking low. "And what I hope is that they've learned that they really don't want to do this. You know what all of this means to me, Olympia—it's personal. I could have ordered hits on all of these fuckers and gone on with my life; I know that choking a bitch to death is nowhere near as challenging as engaging Sean Archer and his men in a shootout or orchestrating a bombing in the square—yeah, I have to have others help me by setting them up so I can knock 'em down—I don't really care about that so much. What I want, what I _need_, is to see the look in their eyes before they die...as they're dying...to see that recognition—for them to see _me_ and know _why_. I have to have that if I'm going to move on, I simply have to. I can't help the gender ratio of the fucks who tortured me—I simply can't.

"What happened to the doctor was cruel...sublime, even..." Castor tells her with a faraway look in his eyes, which roll hard to the top of his head before he looks back at his sister. "The boys are fucked-up. That's a good sign that they're not the monster that I am."

"Cas, you're not a mons..."

"I am a monster, Olympia," he cuts her off softly. "My father's blood runs in my veins."

"It runs in mine, as well, Cas..."

"And you can be a hard, cold bitch, sister—a criminal born—the best munitions expert I've ever known and you took to it like it was a religious calling. It's what we are—in our prime, on the decline—a skin we have to shed and keep shedding. I told Adam what happens when you feed the beast, Olympia. Neither one of them have done that, yet. They've only served it an appetizer. I'm pretty sure they don't want to go whole hog now.

"I promise that the good doctor in Annapolis won't see such a gruesome end. She's an old lady—she deserves a little mercy to go along with the initial terror of being broken in on in the middle of the night in her lonely little farmhouse: a few choice words, a benevolent smile...then a simple bullet to the brain. That's the plan."

"Are you going to have them..."

"No, sis. While Ajax and I send the doc off to heaven the boys will be with you and Telly, playing scrabble or some shit—is that cool with you?" he smiles at her.

"Yes, Cas...way cool. Thank you."

"Don't thank me—there's still Pressman to deal with, that Florida fuck. He's aligned himself with quite a few drug dealers over the years—you read his file. He's got a small militia posted at his place. The smart thing to do is not to hit him at home, but I really want to hit him at home," Castor laughs lightly.

"Cas, we've discussed this ad nauseum—let's hit him on the way to work," Ajax says sternly. "It's easier—in and out then gone like we were never there."

"Yeah, yeah, Ajax, I get that," Castor says irritatedly as he rubs his forehead through eyes clenched tightly shut, "but I want him at home."

"Alright, enough for now, boys," Olympia interjects delicately. "We land at Tipton in two hours. We have a nice little retreat about fifteen minutes from there. We can hash this all out more there."

"Yeah, I hear you, sis. Run along now, your man looks lonely over there," he says of Telly, who has been busy keeping his eyes glued on the clouds outside of his window during their hushed conversation. Olympia kisses her brother's cheek lightly.

"Don't be such a dick all of the time, Cas, huh?" she smiles at him as she rises to leave and Castor lets her out. Before she leaves them she gives her brother Ajax a kiss to the cheek, as well.

"We're cool, Olympia," Ajax assures her, "we'll keep it on tap until Strawberry Lake, okay?"

"Okay." Olympia takes her seat next to Telly.

"Everything cool?" he asks when he looks away from the window to face her.

"Honestly? I'm not sure," she answers him with a worried look on her face.

* * *

><p>"Hello, Assistant Director Cho..."<p>

Wanda listens intently to agent Dunn as she reports the findings of her initial side investigation of the Interpol report on doctor Plenier. Ten minutes later they hang up.

"Ted, a fax is coming through from Dunn—go look for it, will you please?"

"Sure," he says as he scurries off. When he returns he is reading the report and looking at an artist's rendering of two young male suspects in the case.

"Wow, one of these suspects looks like Pollux Troy, but we know that's fucking impossible," Ted says absently.

Wanda snatches the report from him and peruses the photos for herself then shoots him a look like he's the biggest idiot on earth. She recognizes one young man instantly. "It's Adam Hassler, you fucking idiot...get the team together—NOW!" she barks at him.


	24. Looking Back

**A/N Face/Off is a fantastic movie written by Mike Werb and Michael Colleary and directed by John Woo. **

* * *

><p>I own absolutely nothing.<p>

Adam and Eve

Ch 24 Looking Back

Wanda Cho sits across the kitchen table from three distraught and anxious women.

"Eve, thank you for allowing me meet with you all here," she says regarding Talia Burke's presence.

"Certainly, Wanda," Eve says simply.

"I've gotten some information over the wire from Interpol, ladies. I told you all about Castor's recent escape and the death of the the FBI agent in Brazil. There've been some other interesting developments in the last few weeks and days, and please bear with me because we're still trying to figure this all out. One: we are fairly certain that the FBI agent was killed by guns for hire in São Paulo—those killers being one or all three of the guards that were formerly assigned to Castor Troy before the last detail that was murdered upon his recent escape. Two: the last attending physician, doctor Sandrine Plenier, who was on the same team as the guards, has gone missing in France, just three days ago. Three: the three guards in São Paulo are also all missing. Four, and most disturbingly of all, we have this..." she passes copies of the drawings of the male suspects to each woman at the table.

"Oh my God, this is Adam!" Jamie gasps. "I don't understand..."

"Doctor Plenier left America after her team was completely disbanded; she went back home to France—Marseille, to be exact, retired and went on the lecture circuit at universities throughout Europe. Her last lecture was last Tuesday, in Marseille. She was an attractive woman with a penchant for young college boys. After her lecture witnesses say that she was approached by the two young men you see in those drawings. The doctor has not been seen since. Our agents overseas are there on a different assignment of their own and were only able to get this sketchy information so far—we need to send someone over to investigate fully—there was simply nothing else in the Interpol report that was helpful enough to answer any of our questions.

"What I need to know right now from all of you is if you recognize the other young man in the drawing. We've run it through all of our criminal databases and come up with absolutely nothing—nothing overseas, nothing here locally, nothing in the entire United States, and of course the same with Adam. We have no idea who he could be. Do any of you?" Wanda asks desperately.

Eve sits shaking her head in shock and bewilderment. "I didn't know many of his friends at all—a couple of boys from school, but not this one. I have no idea who this could be..."

"I don't know him..." says Jamie, at an utter loss for words, as well.

"No, Agent Cho, I have no idea who he could be...I'm sorry," Talia tells her, her hand over her mouth as she looks at her two copies laying on the table before her fearfully, as if they are poisonous snakes that will strike her if she dares to move.

Wanda can see that each woman is telling her the absolute truth, but she can also see the wheels working in Talia Burke's head; she decides to hold off on her until she has a moment alone with her, preferably in her office at headquarters, and knows then that is the detour she will make before she returns Mrs. Burke home.

"What in hell would Adam be doing in Marseille?" asks Eve of no one in particular.

"It looks like Adam—could just be a coincidence, mother..." Jamie says hopefully, as she looks at the other women with wild eyes.

"Oh, come on, Jamie...it's Adam and you know it as well as I do," Eve says with calm anger. "Castor is the one connecting piece of this fucking puzzle; he's escaped and now these people are all missing, translation: dead. Can it be any simpler?"

"What are you saying mother?" Jamie asks her, horrified at the implication she knows is coming.

"Wanda, what about the others on the team with Doctor Plenier? Have you checked on them lately?" Eve asks her.

"No, I haven't, but I will," Wanda assures her.

"I think Castor is out for revenge—can it be any clearer? The guards, the doctors—me. He's coming for us, Wanda. And he's collected Adam to help him. How...when..I don't know. Whoever it was that scared Adam last year—it was not an enemy of Castor—it was a friend. Now Adam is gone and these people have all gone 'missing'...Castor can't be found? You find Adam, you'll find Castor," Eve concludes in an eerily calm and detached manner, unsettling to all of the other ladies at the table.

"Mother...you can't possibly believe..."

"Oh yes, I can. I knew it. I always knew that it would come to something like this, but you all told me I was crazy to think it...that Adam couldn't possibly. Well, I still maintain that he's just like his fucking father: a cold-hearted KILLER!" She rises angrily from the table, knocking over her chair as she does so.

"Eve, that's enough—that's my nephew you're talking about," Talia rises from her own seat with an indignant fury of her own.

"Yes, your nephew..." she spits at Talia.

"Mother, stop it..." Jamie is in tears.

"And you...you..." Eve stares down at her daughter contemptuously, her voice full of icy venom, unable to say more as she backs away from them all.

"Eve, that's enough," Wanda tries to placate her with a calm voice and her hand held out, "come with me...I understand how you feel..."

"Don't talk to me like I'm crazy, Wanda. All of you can go. Just go. But I promise you this: if either one of them comes anywhere near me I'll kill them...I'll kill them!" Eve turns and runs out of the room.

"Talia, I'm so sorry..." Jamie begins sorrowfully.

"You don't have to apologize for her, Jamie. But I suggest you get yourself out of this house. You're welcomed to come stay with me, if you'd like," Talia offers as she gathers her things together to leave with Wanda.

"Thank you, Talia, I'll be okay here. I'll be in touch with you, okay?"

"Sure, honey."

"I don't believe Adam could do such a thing as my mother thinks, Talia. That's not our Adam."

"No, honey, that isn't our Adam," Talia says as she gives Jamie a reassuring hug. "Call me, Jamie, anytime. Bye, honey."

"Goodbye."

"Jamie, take care of her—and yourself. As soon as I learn anything more you know I'll call you."

"Thanks for everything, Wanda."

"Goodnight, Jamie."

When they are gone Jamie is comforted by the fact that her mother's house is surrounded by FBI agents guarding it. She goes to the living room and pulls out a photo album from the coffee table cabinet. The first one on the stack is the one Adam had been looking at before he left home so many months before. She opens it and is greeted by one taken not long after he had joined the family, of the two of them on a trip at Disneyland on the Small World ride. That night, after they'd all come home and her parents had gone to bed she had heard Adam in his room calling out for his mother in his sleep. When she had gotten to his room he was in tears and badly frightened. Her parents didn't wake up and never knew that she had spent the rest of the night comforting the poor boy as she talked with him about his mommy—a woman she never knew—listening to the few happy memories he had of her until he fell asleep in her arms from sheer exhaustion, emotional and physical. That was her sweet Adam. Jamie hugs the album to her chest and cries softly to herself.

* * *

><p>"I thought you were taking me home, Agent Cho," says Talia as she realizes that she heading through West Los Angeles in the opposite direction of her home.<p>

"Talia, there's something you're not telling me. I could see it the night I told you about Castor's escape, when I spoke about not knowing who could have helped him to do so. I saw it again when Eve accused Castor of sending friends for Adam. She's right, isn't she?"

"Well, how would I know?" Talia answers her indignantly. "You could have just asked me to come here instead of abducting me, Agent Cho," she says as they approach the Los Angeles field office.

"Yes, I could have," Wanda says simply.

When they are in Wanda's office five minutes later Talia has passed through a room full of agents, the place a literal hive of activity. Wanda closes the door behind them.

"Please have a seat, Talia," Wanda motions to the chair across from her desk and takes her own seat. Talia reluctantly takes her seat.

"Who was it that contacted Adam, last year, Talia?"

"I don't know, Agent Cho."

"Wanda. You can do better."

The two women stare each other down.

"Will they come after you, Talia? Is that what you're afraid of?"

Talia says nothing.

"Come on, Talia, I'm trying to save lives, here...Adam's, as well."

Still nothing from Talia. Wanda sighs heavily.

"If you know or suspect anything, Talia, you need to tell me. If Adam is with someone he trusts, that's great, but he could be involved with something that's he's way over his head in—I'd like to help him before something happens that he can't extricate himself from—something that mean consequences even worse than jail, honey. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"

"Yes, Wanda. I'm torn, you have to know that," Talia tells her with a voice full of anguish.

"I do," Wanda says with genuine sympathy.

"Panos Troy—you know about him, don't you?"

"Castor's father—very little: small-time hood, died in 1983, drug-related murder."

"Well, you obviously missed something in his background."

"Tell me what that is, Talia, please?"

"Just go back through his records. That's all I can say...that's all I will say. I would really like to go home now," Talia says nervously. Wanda realizes that, although it doesn't seem like it, Talia has most likely given her a big lead on the case. She gets up from her desk, approaches the scared woman and places a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.

"Thank you, Talia. I'll have someone take you home now." Wanda motions to Ted Bauer through the open blinds in her office window.

"Yes, boss?"

"Get Agent Muir, please, and have him take Mrs. Burke home—then come back here immediately."

"Right away—Mrs. Burke? You want to come with me, please?"

Talia gives Wanda one last fearful look before she goes silently away with Bauer.

When Bauer returns Wanda is pacing her office floor as she holds the file relating to Castor Troy's escape.

"Yes, boss?"

"Get all of the records on Panos Troy—we've missed something in his background that I'm sure will help us with this case. And check with the local police agencies where doctors April Blansky, Jason Pressman and Andrew Boseman live—see if there has been any unusual activity..." she hands him her file.

"I'm on it," he says as he hurries away.


	25. CheckUp

**A/N Face/Off is a fantastic movie written by Mike Werb and Michael Colleary and directed by John Woo. **

* * *

><p>I own absolutely nothing.<p>

Adam and Eve

Ch 25 Check-Up

She lays in her bed amazed that her tired sixty-eight year-old bones have made it through another day. She stares through the darkness of her bedroom into the blue moonlit glow emanating from her bathroom, the door ajar and beckoning to her to make the trek to the medicine cabinet. She can't kid herself any longer—the long, late shifts will have to stop soon and she and all of her colleagues know it: the medicine cabinet is no use any longer—no more standing on the side of the hospital bed for her administering to patients...time to be one, now.

She hears a noise downstairs, the click of a lock being tumbled, the opening of a door—it must be her son, Patrick, coming early to see about her. It's not unusual for him to come at such an hour, to beat the worst of the traffic on the beltway. He is a successful cardiologist in Georgetown and the only one of her four children that sought to enjoy his career near her. The others all had keys, as well, but were trotting all over the globe living their lives. Well, she could certainly understand that, she had done the same as a young woman, herself.

As she lay there in her bed, feeling sick and abandoned, she wondered: how many times in her life after twenty-five had she been her mother? Become the woman she vowed she would never turn in to? She asked herself the question silently and with a grimace on her face as a wave of pain washed over her. When she had her first child, for sure; when her children each had been the same bratty, entitled, self-absorbed teenager she had been as they disrespected her authority every chance that they could; when she had stopped listening to them and they had stopped talking to her; when she turned a blind eye to her husband's many affairs, more relieved than hurt. Her mother had none of her children to see to her in her last years, all of them content to salt her away and contribute to her stay in an exclusive retirement home with the best medical facilities money could buy; all of them too busy with their lives to ever visit. But in that one regard she was not her mother—she wasn't abandoned-she had Patrick. She calls out to him.

"Patrick? Come on up, honey, I'm awake..." She busies herself propping up to sitting to receive him and is only aware of the figure standing in her bedroom doorway; she is not looking up yet as she asks him, "How was the drive, dear?"

"It was great, dear, thank you," comes his smooth voice, full of amusement. She looks up in alarm, then anger, as the man there flips on the light switch next to the door and comes in to full view. He gives the handsome older woman a nod of approval. "Looking good, April. How is it that a hot broad like you is lying here all alone in bed? I don't get it. I mean really, Dame Helen's got nothing on you, honey," he says with real appreciation in his voice of the regal older beauty sitting in her bed shooting daggers at him with her extraordinary gray eyes.

"You..."

"Yes, me. And don't worry about Patrick—if he shows up before we've had a chance to finish our—business, shall we say?—there's someone downstairs to greet him."

"Don't you dare!" she rages at him. "Don't you lay a finger on my son, you son-of-a-bitch."

"Let's not talk about mothers—April—you haven't been such a great one, yourself," he says to her as if he's scolding a small child.

"You bastard..."

"April, c'mon, honey, really? My father was not a cool guy in my book, but at least I knew who he was. And I was legitimate, dear. Can Patrick say the same?"

The woman is visibly taken aback by his question and gasps out loud. "How could you possibly..."

"C'mon, Doctor Blansky, old news, really. I am amazed that you managed to keep it from him and the rest of your children all these years, though. How lovely that one of your revenge fucks turned out so well. Bravo, I say," Castor gives her a knowing look as he applauds her.

"You're not here to discuss my family tree—and you leave my children out of this," she warns him.

"Or what, old lady? We'll leave Patrick out of this as long as he doesn't show up...that's the only promise I can give you."

"Let me guess: my colleagues from the facility—you've paid them all visits, haven't you? I told them all it was a mistake to keep you alive, but they wouldn't listen to me." She makes no effort to mask the contempt in her voice, or hide the regret.

"Well, thank you—April—for making this easier for me," Castor smiles at her as he pulls out his silencer.

"No, you fuck, thank _you_ for making it easier for me."

Castor rolls his eyes at her and sighs heavily as his smile fades away. "I'm already getting bored, April. What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Try stage three colon cancer on for size, you prick...getting aggressive and about to kill me. So go ahead—you're doing me a big favor," she tells him defiantly. "Just don't leave me here for my son to find."

Castor squeezes his eyes shut and massages a temple with his free hand, as if he has been overtaken by a severe headache; he then scratches his head with the tip of his gun as he approaches her to take a seat beside her on the bed. When he does he puts a protective arm around her shoulder; she recoils from his touch, but he is not fazed; he shakes her into submission and she yields to him through her pain as tears start to stream down her cheeks. Castor know that she is not crying because of him and what he plans to do to her.

"You know, April, you're trying to take all of the fun out of this," he says softly to her as he hugs her tightly to him. "First, you weren't surprised by an intruder at three in the morning; then I find out you're totally down for a little early morning euthanasia _and_ now you're giving me final disposition instructions? _Tsk, tsk, tsk_..." Castor shook his head and the end of his gun at her.

"I don't care that all of your wrongdoing has settled itself in your ass and is eating you up from the inside out, April, I really don't—it's too good for you, actually..."

"Go to hell," she manages to tell him through her choked tears.

"Oh, I will, honey, and I'll be meeting you there—it's gonna be grand when we see each other again."

"You're going after the wrong people—it's the head of the FBI that you want," she says desperately.

"True, but I settled for Victor Lazzaro fifteen years ago and Wanda Cho is going to be the cherry on top of my pie...the big guy in D. C.? If I was younger..." he trails off wistfully. "Had I not been abducted by you crazy fucks, for sure. But being here with you and this..." he puts the gun to her temple, "this is good; this is sweet—this is _right_, honey. And that you could even say that makes this sweeter, because even through all the pain and anger and your brave words _I_ know that you still have the rage to live, April," he tells the entranced woman in a whisper. "Now, don't worry about your body—your son will find nothing, not even blood on these sheets—you're going to disappear, sweetheart; all evidence of this moment is going to disappear." With those last words Castor pulls the trigger and kills her with a single shot to the brain.

* * *

><p>When Castor and Ajax return to their digs at Strawberry Lake it is almost daybreak.<p>

"Breakfast, boys?" Olympia greets them as they walk into the kitchen.

"Sounds good—I'm starving," Castor tells her after a kiss to her cheek.

"Anyone else up?" Ajax asks her as he heads to the fridge and retrieves a carton of eggs.

"No, just me. How did it go?"

"It went," says Castor through a heavy sigh as he takes a seat at the island counter.

"Well, what took so long?"

"Her son showed up...extra work we hadn't counted on. It's all done now. We'll have some chow and head for Florida."

"Well, we're still making good time," Olympia says as she hands them both a cup of freshly-brewed coffee.

"That we are...thank you, honey. Get the boys up, will you? I feel like cooking, myself," he says after he takes a rejuvenating sip of coffee and then rises to help Ajax prepare breakfast.

* * *

><p>"How has he been a secret all of this fucking time?"<p>

"Not a secret, just off the grid. His base of operation is New York City; for the past ten years or so he's been in and out to destinations unknown, but hasn't been sighted there now for the past two years. He's an Associate labor racketeer; his own interests include narcotics, prostitution, and a legitimate and very lucrative olive oil importing business, as well. He was never connected to Castor or Pollux in any of their terrorist activities."

"Incredible..." muses Wanda Cho as she reads the dossier on Ajax Troy. There is barely any mention of his father in the documentation and more than enough, if useless, information about his mother. There is also no indication, aside from the incident with the police in December of 1970, that he boys had any contact with each other over their years growing up. "Don't we have anything else on Panos Troy?" she asks her assistant exasperatedly.

"Sorry, boss...he was small potatoes...fairly good at what he did unless he was hooked on heroin or cocaine, which was his usual state. Lots of women in the mean and in-between times, though," Ted tells her with a click of his tongue.

"Imagine that," she says, more than unimpressed. "Any other word from Agent Dunn?"

"Not yet. She's still canvassing witnesses from the lecture; she spoke in person with a cousin at Plenier's home—she went to the opera the night she disappeared, but she left alone and there's no surveillance video in the area that shows her on it or who she might have been with."

"Damn. How much longer before they come back?"

"They've got all of their paperwork together—they're heading back tomorrow morning," Ted informs her. "Are we going?"

"I'm not sure yet...what have you got on the other doctors?"

"No unusual activity here with Boseman and nothing on Pressman in Florida. Doctor Blansky, however, was due in for chemo treatment this morning—she hasn't shown up yet and I just spoke with her doctor twenty minutes ago."

"This morning..." Wanda mutters and then looks at her watch. "It's three o'clock there already—put in a call and have someone go check out her house."

"Will do," says Ted as he scrambles up from his chair and out of her office.


	26. Hot

**A/N Face/Off is a fantastic movie written by Mike Werb and Michael Colleary and directed by John Woo. **

* * *

><p>I own absolutely nothing.<p>

Adam and Eve

Ch 26 Hot

As Castor and company arrive in Florida Wanda Cho is learning more about the rotational team that attended to him and connects the dots between the guards gone missing in Brazil and Doctor Sandrine Plenier in Marseille. When Ted Bauer returns with the news that Doctor April Blansky has gone missing she knows in her gut that she's dealing with the resurrected, and well-appointed, Castor Troy.

"It can't be anyone other than his brother helping him, Ted."

"But how can we know that for sure? There's nothing at the doctor's house to indicate foul play at all. Maybe she just went somewhere and drove herself off a bridge...her colleagues all stated that she'd been been severely depressed since her cancer became more aggressive even though she tried hard to mask it. We're still trying to reach any of her children right now for any other possible leads, but by all accounts they won't know much, either. Except for maybe her son in Georgetown."

Wanda shoots Bauer a cold look. "Maybe she just went somewhere and drove herself off a bridge? Really, asshole? Really?" she asks him angrily.

"I'm sorry, boss, I didn't mean..."

"Just shut the fuck up. It's Castor Troy—I know it is. What's the latest from the teams on Eve Archer and Doctor Boseman?

"Nothing unusual, no activity at all."

"I think Troy is working his way back home and saving the best for last. Get a team on Pressman in Miami, fucking yesterday! MOVE!" she yells at him. "Muir..."

"Yes, boss?"

"I read Pressman's file—he still catering to his old cartel cronies?"

"Affirmative—he still has ties to the CDS. His place is a veritable fortress—how are we doing this?"

"Quietly. I want Castor—alive. If they have any idea he's coming...it won't help anything."

Agent Muir looks as his boss skeptically, his brow furrowed. "Castor's been out of the game a while now...how could he possibly..."

"Ajax Troy is more than well-connected. He got Castor out of top-secret, high-level security detention, didn't he? I'm sure they're more than ready for a few goons at the doctor's gates—but they won't be ready for us. C'mon, our plane is waiting."

"What about Bauer?"

"Bauer fucking stays here," she tells Muir disgustedly as she grabs her jacket on the way out of her office.

* * *

><p>"Are we ready? <em>Ready for the big ride, baby...<em>" Castor sing-songs his question to his team through his headpiece. From the front seat he looks out through the window of the van he and Ajax have commandeered from Jason Pressman's gardening contractor, Aurelio Valdez, who at that moment is bound and being held at gunpoint by Adam and Jace in the back storage area. Castor's people have scoped out the area and Pressman's home for months and know the daily routine well. On this day Valdez has returned alone, as he always does at that point in the week, to give his personal touch to the maintenance of the flower gardens in the front and back of the mansion.

When the van reaches the security gate Ajax enters the code and waits to enter as the gates swing wide open to admit them.

"_Mary, Mary, quite contrary how does your garden grow? With sick-fuck doctors and wannabe mobsters lined up in front of my XM20-fucking10..."_ Castor recites under his breath.

"There's two on the second gate, Cas...four on the roof, three out back at the pool. Cameras are disabled," Bruce Cantara reports in.

"Good man, Bruce—we're in. Send Telly up."

"Done."

"Where's Nicky?"

"Next roof over with his team."

"Good. Stay sharp. I'm gonna make this as quick as possible."

"Check, boss."

"Sis, tell me something good, sweetheart."

"All clear, Cas...nothing but the usual gardener run and nanny-dance going on out here, which should be over in ten minutes," Olympia reports in from her vantage point outside on the main drag leading to the private street. She sits in a parked bucket truck emblazoned with the official city seal while Bruce, up in the cherry-picker, pretends to work on the sodium-vapor street light thirty feet above her.

"Second gate is out, Cas. Clear to proceed."

"Check that, Bruce. Okay, we're at the door. Out."

"Adam, would you do the honors please?" Castor calls out to his son from the front seat.

Adam looks at the terrified man bound and gagged on the floor and puts the silencer he's been holding to the man's temple. He feels a curious detachment from himself and a little disappointment that his first kill will be so lacking in challenge or complexity. But he also knows that it is a test and one that he refuses to fail. He feels nothing for Aurelio Valdez; is not moved one bit by the fear in his eyes that bore into Adam's own; is not affected by the man's muffled screams one iota. He looks at the man squirming in futility before him and flashes on his own short life, like a man drowning in a vast and turbulent ocean and knows that he will certainly die a violent death. He promises himself when that day comes he will not fight in vain like Aurelio Valdez; he will look death squarely in the eyes and laugh. And die. He is almost certain that day is the one he is living at that moment. Adam pulls the trigger and delivers a clean shot between the man's eyes.

As blood from the man's head pools onto the dirty rusty floor Adam feels the bile rising, his esophagus now a burning trajectory filled with hot liquid condemnation. _Who are you trying to kid, kid?_ his guts seem to be asking him. He turns his head away and spews his answer onto the floor, his gut heaving through a twisted knot of agony. Jace makes to go to his friend but Adam motions him to stay away as he struggles to pull himself together.

In the front his father hears him retching, hears him stoically trying to comport himself. He smiles to himself and then looks at his brother.

"He's not a monster," he whispers to Ajax.

"No, bro, he isn't."

"But he is a man."

"That he is." Ajax smiles back at him.

"Alright—Jace—you've got the wheel. Adam move it up here—shotgun, dude. Keep your eyes peeled."

Jace hightails it to the front drivers seat and Adam follows.

Castor gets the all clear from all teams that they're good to move in and he and Ajax exit the van. They know that yard motion sensors and security are down for the gardener; Telly's team has taken out the look-out guards at the front gate and on the roof as well as disabled the house alarm system. Castor and Ajax walk right in through the wide front double-door and head for Jason Pressman, who is in the shower as he always is at that time of the morning.

* * *

><p>"They're in. Gate and roof are down...repeat, gate and roof are down."<p>

"Fucking MOVE in!"

* * *

><p>From the cherry-picker Bruce Cantara sees unusual movement from two doors down on the left as three gardening trucks peel out and swoop towards Pressman's property.<p>

"Olympia, fuck—we've got company—tell Cas to get out—I'm on it to Telly and Nicky..." he says while trying to keep his cool.

"Cas! Ajax! Abort! Get back to the truck! Repeat—get back to the truck! NOW!" she screams into her headpiece.

"Adam...Jace! Fire it up and be ready to roll...Castor and Ajax should be at twelve o'clock in thirty seconds," Bruce warns them frantically.

"We've got the back..." Telly reports in as his team fires on the three guards in back and wait for agents to swarm behind them.

"We've got Cas covered in front..." Nicky Sumner reports.

"We're fucking hot? What the fuck happened?" asks Castor as he and Ajax race back down the stairs to the front door. They hear the first round of gunfire from Telly's men on the roof.

"Where was that?"

"Just fucking run, Cas!"

Just then Jason Pressman appears at the top of the stairs behind them.

"Who the holy fuck are you!" he screams at them. "Fish! Fish! Get your ass in here!" he screams out for help. Castor stops in his tracks and turns around to face him.

"You fat fuck," he hisses at him as he strides closer.

"Cas, there's no time!" Ajax goes back to pull his brother out by the arm but Castor throws him off easily. He aims his XM2010 at the outraged rotund doctor, who almost looks comical standing there naked under his open robe, with a Gurkha Black Dragon hanging impossibly from his downturned mouth.

"I'm CASTOR FUCKING TROY, YOU ASSWIPE!" he screams out then at the man and then fires, the first shot to his head, the next to his heart.

The sixty-something man falls dead to the floor and rolls down the steps. When he reaches the bottom Castor gives his carcass a vicious kick.  
>"CASTOR! Let's GO!" his brother yells at him. They hear reports of gunfire from the back and the front of the property.<p>

"Cas? Where the fuck are you man? You're clear for the front door, man...hurry!" he hears Bruce screaming in his ear. When Castor and Ajax open the front door Ajax just barely misses getting hit in the shoulder. They see Adam firing at FBI agents with his own XM and working in concert with Nicky's team on the roof next door. Jace has the engine revved and waiting. He sees them at the door and motions them to the back where they find that Aurelio Valdez' body has been tossed out unceremoniously on a flower bed.

"Get in! Get in!" Jace screams at them.

"You're clear, Jace, but get the fuck out now—more heat is coming and the street is being blocked off as we speak—just ram the barricade," Bruce instructs them. "Olympia, bring me down, we've got to get out before the next wave."

"No! Not before Cas gets here!"

"We'll be shot before they get here if you don't go now—they'll make it!"

The picker is only two thirds of the way down and Bruce jumps for it, almost breaking a leg in the process. He limps to the truck and pushes her to the passenger side, then peels out.

"Who's down, Goddammit? Somebody come in!" Castor screams into his headpiece as Jace tears out of the property.

"I don't know—I can't raise anybody on Telly's team..." responds Nicky, "but I've got three men down—we're pulling..."

They hear muffled gunshots and lose Nicky's transmission. Olympia and Bruce hear the exchange; her silent tears begin to flow harder as she starts to hyperventilate. Bruce guns the engine and whizzes past a fleet of speeding black SUV's.

"Fuck! Olympia! Snap the fuck out of it!" Bruce yells at her.

She does, but only barely. She picks up her sniper rifle and begins blowing out tires and aiming at the heads of drivers with quick precision and several SUV's spin out of control. Bruce whips the truck around and screeches to a halt so that he can join her.

* * *

><p>"What the fuck is going on down there? They're getting away!" screams Wanda Cho from an incoming chopper.<p>

* * *

><p>"Duck!" Jace screams to Castor and Ajax as Adam blasts through the front gate and past the oncoming agents in the remaining SUV's headed in. Some agents are on foot and Adam picks them off easily. As Jace turns on to the main road he can see beyond the barricade that Olympia and Bruce are ahead and trying to clear their way.<p>

"Fuck this," Castor mutters. "Gun it, son!" He throws open the back doors of the van and he and Ajax begin to shoot, as well. He takes a moment to stop and furiously search through the truck. "Where are they? Where the fuck..." he finds the case he's looking for and smiles as he opens it. "Bro...pass some of these to Adam, will ya?"

They finally reach Olympia and Bruce.

"Get in! Get in!"

Just then a chopper appears overhead and they hear Wanda Cho on a loudspeaker.

"Give yourselves up, Castor! It's over. Stop your vehicle and come out with your hands up."

"Fuck her. Jace, gun it! Adam—now!"

Olympia, Bruce and Ajax blast away at the chopper as Castor and Adam lob hand grenades at the agents on the ground.

* * *

><p>"Fuck me!" screams Wanda Cho.<p>

* * *

><p>Bruce Cantara manages to get a shot through the windshield to the chopper pilot and it begins to go out of control. Inside the chopper a furious scramble ensues to get someone on the controls before it crashes. On the ground the agents are disoriented by the unexpected grenade assault and the drama playing out in the sky above them.<p>

Jace speeds them away headed for the location where they can ditch the van and switch cars. The crew is silent; they are glad to be alive but are more than worried about the team members left behind and their fates.

"Our jet is ready and waiting," Bruce informs them all quietly, now behind the wheel of the car racing them to a private air field.


	27. Prime Considerations

**A/N Face/Off is a fantastic movie written by Mike Werb and Michael Colleary and directed by John Woo. **

* * *

><p>I own absolutely nothing.<p>

Adam and Eve

Ch 27 Prime Considerations

"What? What are you telling me?"

"I'm so sorry, Doctor Archer. I know she was a friend as well as Sean's colleague. We don't want you to worry—your security detail is ongoing until Castor Troy is caught. Period."

Eve was in her bedroom pacing the floor. Wanda Cho was dead. Castor Troy was alive and still on the loose. She wants to scream but manages to hold herself in check.

"Thank you, Agent Bauer. I appreciate your phone call. When is her funeral?"

"She and Agent Muir will be laid to rest this coming Thursday, ma'am. I'll be sending the notice to you and the Bureau will send a car on that day for you and Jamie."

"You know, I never even knew anything about her family..."

"She's survived by her parents and a brother. And her, uh, wife."

"Alright, thank you. If you would be so kind as to give me the information...I would like to send flowers..."

"Of course, ma'am. I'll get that to you right away."

"Thank you so much."

"Good night, Doctor Archer."

"Yes, goodnight."

Eve looks at her cell phone still in great shock. She sits down wearily on the edge of her bed and contemplates just what she should do with herself. There is no way she was going to get any sleep. Jamie is just down the hall in her old bedroom, but she doesn't have the heart to wake her yet with such bad news.

* * *

><p>Three nights later Ajax has his family comfortably entrenched and re-grouping in a safe house in upstate New York. They have lost several good men; Telly has been wounded badly and is in a coma. Olympia is nearly inconsolable and a very definite funk has settled upon them all. Both Ajax and Castor find themselves suffering from a severe bout of insomnia and are up during the wee hours of yet another morning discussing their options.<p>

"Fucking Interpol. How could we miss something like that, Jax?"

"I hate to say it, Cas, but I don't think that's what really brought the heat. I took great pains all of these years to distance myself from you,especially after I found out you were in the terrorism game. When I retrieved what I thought was your body I used a liaison; when I contacted Adam I took great pains to be untraceable; I had all of Panos' public records destroyed—with the exception of my mother's divorce records and your mom's birth and death certificates. And I pulled Olympia's records and had them altered before she went to college. Now all of a sudden the FBI wants me? Even my dealings here in New York never brought me that kind of heat."

"We were cognizant and careful of the cameras all over Marseille but we coulda slipped up; and I did drop my guard with the flight crew; then there's Doctor Nauheim and his people..."

"No, Cas...I can guarantee they didn't get us on camera in Marseille and the flight crew has been with me for five years—I've never had a breach once. Never. And no government agency could ever match what we paid Doctor Nauheim. Never."

"Look, we've lost seven men; Telly is still in critical condition—we're lucky we got him back at all. We know that Adam and Jace's very accurate descriptions are part of that Interpol report—once they saw Adam it got serious—somehow they made the connection to you, Jax. Cas, you've killed the main people who were directly and last linked to you—we need to cut our losses and lay low...figure out where we need to go and get there," Olympia tells him firmly.

"Yeah, well, then it's the fucking Interpol/Plenier shit. So whoever the fucks were that ID'd Adam and Jace—we go after them. Right now we're looking at two boys who left home, went to school together and by some freakish coincidence _happen_ to look like two student boy-toys who approached hot teach at the end of a lecture. If they'd been ID'd at the Opera, sure, I would worry..." Castor countered. "We get some fresh docs forged pronto, call in some favors, get the boys in school—find the witnesses who saw them in Marseille and convince them to change their description of the two young men they _think_ they saw then take them out for coffee and a bullet to the brain."

"That's too transparent, Cas, and you know it," Ajax tells him matter-of-factly. "They know about me now, there's no getting around that."

"ID-ing Adam should not have been a link to you, Jax. Did anybody ever get to Jace's folks?" Castor asks his brother ominously. Olympia looks at each of her brothers as she shakes her head.

"Absolutely negative, Cas. The FBI has been nowhere near them in all of this time—I've been keeping tabs," she tells them both emphatically.

"Fuck. Fuck me!" says Castor suddenly.

"What?" asks Ajax, alarmed at his brothers outburst.

"There's only one other person on this earth alive that knows about you, Jax. Talia...Talia Hassler. Burke, now. We know that Wanda Cho interviewed her on several occasions."

"She wouldn't—would she?" Olympia gasped.

"There's only one way to find out."

"Cas, there's no time for personal interrogations now. We need to get gone. I'd like to go where the money is, but Switzerland is not a prime consideration at this point. Barbados could work nicely for a time, however; no language barrier and we could maintain our anonymity very well there," Ajax informs him.

"Yeah, my German is rusty and I'm not feeling South America. Barbados it is. Make the necessary preparations, bro. I'll figure out how I want to deal with Talia after we get there."

"Both of you need to go get some sleep. Go on—I'll get the ball rolling. I'll have this all together today by noon and then we're all out of here."

"You go on, Cas—I've got business I need to attend to while I'm still here. Go get some sleep."

"Yeah, sure. See you two in a few." Castor leaves them.

"Do you really think Talia gave us up like that?"

"Me, Olympia. She never knew about you. I don't think the FBI does, either. Yet. They should never be able to connect you at all."

"So..."

"So nothing yet. We get confirmation first. Then we take it from there."

"We can never tell Adam about this," Olympia says as she looks at her brother sadly.

"No, never. Come on—we've both got calls to make." Ajax gives his sister a kiss on the cheek then heads to the secure phone on the desk across the room.


End file.
